


The Origamist

by jashinist_feminist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disabled Character, F/M, Femdom, Grief/Mourning, Mentions of Ableism, Mentions of Racism, Mentions of homophobia, Moving On, Oral Sex, Out of Character, Past Character Death, Self-Harm, Sex, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 13:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14594220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jashinist_feminist/pseuds/jashinist_feminist
Summary: In a sleepy bohemian coastal town, Hidan grows tired of his cheapskate live-in landlord. He resolves to even the score by enlisting the help of a local artisan, an origami specialist. But when he meets the origamist, things take an unexpected turn when he discovers that she’s talented, clever, and concealing a past tainted with tragedy.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so this is my very first hidakona that i've ever written, and i have no idea if the premise for the story is any good.  
> I know i host Konan Love Wednesday on my Tumblr, but i've always found that it's one thing to write critically about a character and share headcanons, and another thing to portray them creatively. as it's a modern au, I've adapted all of the characters and in some cases had to "tone them down" a bit to fit a more modern setting XD  
> i hope all makes sense and that you will enjoy!
> 
> warning: in this au, i'm portraying Hidan as being white/European, and he makes a stereotype about Japanese people&Japanese culture, offending Itachi. He is (rightfully) called out for this, but i am sorry if this also offends anyone else.
> 
> oooh...and about Hidan's job, I actually had a job interview for a similar role once! i didn't get it, but immediately knew it would be the perfect job for him in an au.

“Where’s the bill money I asked you for last week?” rumbled Kakuzu.

“In my bank account,” replied Hidan, holding the door to his ground floor flat open by half-ajar. The last thing he wanted for his landlord to burst in and discover some of the more…incriminating things he’d stashed under his bed.

Why did he even agree to move into this shithole anyway?!

“I asked you for it last week,” Kakuzu barked.

“And I asked you to sort the rat problem down here several weeks ago,” Hidan retorted, waving a hand in the direction of the kitchen in a furious gesture. “They’re still fucking squeaking at me!”

“If you’re leaving food out and feeding them, it’s not my problem!” scolded Kakuzu. “You’ll have to either buy some traps or pay for an exterminator yourself.”

“I never leave food on the side, I eat it!” Hidan yelled, pointing a firmer finger at the bare kitchen side to prove his point. The kitchen was practically Spartan, apart from an impressive collection of kitchen knives and a few large tubs of protein shake mix on the side, carefully sealed.

Kakuzu’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t fulfil your side of the contract to keep the living areas in a hygienic manner, I see no reason to fulfil my side.”

“They are hygienic!” Hidan protested. “Where’s the mess?”

“Crumbs,” Kakuzu replied. “You leave them, and then you’re too lazy to look for them and sweep them up.”

“I don’t leave crumbs!” Hidan insisted.

“You will pay me the bill money, Hidan,” Kakuzu scowled. “Or I’ll change the wi-fi password. You can pay it by cash or bank transaction. I don’t care how.”

“Oh, you don’t care how?” Hidan raised his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t,” Kakuzu scowled. “I just want my money.”

“Fine then. You’ll get your money. And then you’ll sort out the rats?”

“Done,” barked Kakuzu.

Hidan slammed the door shut, and glared into the dull grey painted wood, resisting the urge to punch it. Slamming the door in the face of his stingy housemate and landlord hadn’t given him the satisfaction he craved. Damaging the property seemed tempting, but counter-productive to the point he was attempting to make. What he really needed was to go out and rant to someone.

Hidan yanked on a pair of trainers, pulled on a leather jacket with a large fur hood over his white vest, grabbed his wallet, keys and phone, and peered out of his door at the hallway. Kakuzu had gone, presumably to go and count the copper coins he stored in a large empty Jack Daniels glass. When it grew full, Kakuzu painstakingly counted each and everyone one of the coins and put them into small plastic bags, to exchange for notes at the bank.

Hidan re-opened his door, slipped outside, and then made his way through the hallway and out the front door. He didn’t care if Kakuzu heard him go out. He walked down the pathway of the garden, and then began to pace through the streets.

Dull grey clouds floated above him. It wasn’t a hot day, nor a cold day. As he walked, sweat gathered between his shoulder blades and trickled down his back unpleasantly. He wrinkled his nose with distaste at the humidity of the day.

He made his way into town, heading towards a small, unassuming tea shop that was practically empty but for the East Asian guy behind the counter, his curly-haired cousin sitting under the counter talking to him, and the long-haired blond sitting with a milkshake in front of him beside his red-haired companion.

“Double expresso, Itachi,” said Hidan, by way of greeting, before flinging himself down at one of the tables. The blond and red-haired guy looked over from their table, where between them they had arranged a series of figurines. Some were made of clay, and others were tiny limbs of wood joined together by even tinier stitches. Hidan didn’t bother looking any further than that.

There was the sound of a coffee machine whistling, and then clanging as Itachi fetched a mug.

“Here’s your double expresso, Hidan,” Itachi carefully made his way around the counter, and then laid the expresso in front of him. Hidan rummaged through his wallet, before handing Itachi a two-pound coin. Itachi accepted it, and then took it to the till.

“Keep the change,” called Hidan. “It’s your tip.”

“Thank you,” said Itachi, looking at the 10p coin he had already pulled free.

Hidan sipped the coffee, wrinkling his nose at the bitterness, but it matched his mood. Over on the other table, the blond laughed, low and deep, evidently at something the red-haired guy had said. Itachi leant back over the counter, to carry on talking to his cousin.

Hidan stared at the table he perched at. It had been made from driftwood that had been presumably picked up from the seashore, only a few metres away down the road. From wherever in the world it was abandoned, the sea absorbed the wood into its watery folds, and within the murky depths, warped it, bleached it, made it new again. And in this artisan town, it lay it on the beach once again, like an offering. Craftspeople could take their pick for their creations, building something entirely new and unique.

But not that Hidan would know. Itachi probably knew more about it, as he handpicked each and every furniture item in his café to create his favoured vibe. Hidan remembered seeing the daily posts on Instagram of Itachi’s trips to various craft fayres and markets. Nowadays Itachi posted pictures of the various offerings on the menu, cakes, buns, sweets, any particular favourite teacups and saucers he’d purchased, all with a cosy, rustic, vintage vibe.

Hidan took the second sip of his coffee. It had cooled to a pleasant temperature now, and he could sit sipping away at his own leisure without scolding his tongue.

“Is all ok with your coffee?” called Itachi.

“It’s fine,” said Hidan.

“You look stressed,” observed Itachi.

“I fucking hate my landlord,” Hidan cursed.

“Language,” Itachi replied curtly. “My little brother’s out the back.”

“I’m seventeen!” yelled a voice.

His cousin chortled with laughter.

“Shisui,” Itachi scolded, and shook his head.

“The prick won’t sort out my rat problem. Says he’s only going to do it if I pay him the bill money. Let me tell you something. I am not paying him a single fucking penny until every last damn rat is out of my frigging flat!” cursed Hidan.

“Did you leave food out?” asked the red-haired guy. “Because if you did it’s your own fault.”

“Shut up, Sasori, I don’t leave food out!” Hidan retorted. He resisted the urge to fling the coffee across the room at Sasori, and instead stared into his coffee mug. His reflection stared back at him through the murky brown. “He said he doesn’t care if it’s in cash or by bank transfer. I might transfer the money but then put the reference notes as ‘Cunt’ or ‘Money Hoe’ or something.”

“Hidan, you’re dreadful, yeah,” the blond shook his head exasperatedly.

“You can shut up too, Dei,” Hidan added. Deidara ignored him, and reached forwards, and then moved one of the little clay figurines around to take a better look at it. Hidan watched as the blond smiled to himself as soon as it faced him, though Hidan himself couldn’t even distinguish what it was. A rat, maybe?

At that, Hidan’s eyes suddenly glazed over with an idea. He turned back to Itachi, as he leant over the counter to pour tea into his cousin’s cup.

“Hey Itachi! You’re Japanese! You can do the paper-folding shit, right?”

“It’s called origami, and just because I am Japanese, does not mean I can automatically perform an art that happens to be traditionally associated with my culture. That’s a stereotype,” Itachi raised his eyebrows, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Sorry man. But can you do it?” asked Hidan.

“No,” replied Itachi. He sounded tired, as if too many people had asked him the question too many times before. “You’ll have to go to a professional.”

“Well, do you know any?” asked Hidan.

“I do,” piped up Sasori. He reached inside his faded waistcoat jacket and pulled out a small folded flower from the breast pocket. “This is her business card.”

“Cheers Sasori…” Hidan reached over and accepted it. He clutched the flower between his fingers. The paper was a pure stark white, that was so brightly white that it almost glowed a heavenly blue. To find her information, he had to prise open the petals to reveal the details inside. There, in printed cursive letters, was her name.

_Konan. Origamist._

The address of her business was underneath another petal. Hidan prised it open, trying desperately not to rip it. Usually he would have torn it to shreds in frustration, but something stopped him. He almost didn’t want to destroy this fine and intricate thing. This was someone’s time, someone’s effort, and it held the information he needed.

“Where’s the phone number?” asked Hidan, unpicking all the petals and then just as quickly folding them back up and glancing on the other side of the flower.

“She doesn’t hand out her personal phone number,” said Sasori. “She has a Facebook page and an Instagram where you can private message, but if you want it done quickly, you’re better off going to her hut.”

“Her hut? Why doesn’t she have a phone number?” frowned Hidan.

“Well, she does, but it’s not for business. Otherwise people would ring her all the time at obnoxious hours, she’s quite talented,” added Deidara.

“Right,” said Hidan, staring at the curves of the letters of her name.

_Konan. Origamist._

“And this hut, where’s that?” he asked.

“Go down to the seafront,” explained Deidara. “You know where the promenade is? Go past the harbour bit, keep going along to the promenade, there’s a series of beach huts all along the promenade before the sea wall, where there’s more shelter. You can’t miss them, they’re all different bright colours and some of them have bunting and things hanging up outside. It’s like an artist and small business hub.”

“I like the cake shops,” said Itachi.

“Deidara and I browse the art huts all the time,” said Sasori.

Deidara nodded. “We do. That’s how we met her. Konan’s hut is quite simple, it’s just white with some of her designs pinned to the open doors. She’s always in there, working. If you explain to her what you want done and why you need it quickly, she’ll do it on the spot if she doesn’t already have another customer. As long as you ask her politely…And anyway…why do you want an origamist?”

“You’ll find out, Dei-dei,” replied Hidan. He lifted the mug and drained the rest of the coffee. He stood up, and patted down his pockets, before sliding in his wallet, phone and keys. He turned back to the other occupants. “See you later, Itachi, Shisui, Sasori, Deidara.”

“Bye Hidan,” chorused the group.

Hidan closed the door behind him, and then strolled back up to the bank. He half-expected Kakuzu to be standing outside jerking off at the thought of all the cash inside, but it was quiet. In the late afternoon, everyone had crawled wearily back home. He slid his card inside the ATM, then tapped in his pin. He withdrew all the money he needed, and then tucked it into his wallet. He stuffed his wallet deep in his trouser leg, and then began the walk down to the seafront.

As Hidan reached the open spread of water, the air significantly cooled from the breeze blowing in from the sea, that Hidan even shivered inside his jacket. The warm sweat cooled against his back, becoming clammy and sticky. He shuddered discomfortingly, hoping that he didn’t smell.

The grey tinged hue of the water matched the clouds that clung low above the ground, and even matched Hidan’s silvery hair that began to unravel from the gel that smoothed it back neatly. He pushed it back into place impatiently. Seagulls swirled in the sky, screeching at various intervals. The sea swelled and recoiled against the pebbled beach, spitting and hissing foam across the pebbles. Hidan drew in deep breaths, tasting the salt residue that somehow managed to fleck across his lips.

As he passed the harbour, he nodded to Kisame, one of the fishermen, as he docked his boat for the afternoon. Kisame nodded back in response.

Before long, he recognised the bright huts that Sasori and Deidara had described. There were some unattended children shrieking as they ran around, clutching pennies for the arcades further along the shore. Hidan ignored them. He’d never had much time for children.

He passed a hut selling a confection of cakes and sweets, one that Itachi would have liked. There was another hut selling buckets and spades, jelly shoes for roaming around across the pebbles, even bodyboards and floatation aids for swimming in the sea. As a child, Hidan knew he would have clamoured and screamed for it all. He passed by a hut selling gifts, little placards with various motivational quotes, ornaments that promised to bring an aura of the seashore into the home, various cutesy distressed photo frames that all seemed to be trying too hard to replicate the overdone shabby chic look.

Hidan allowed his eyes to flicker over the huts, absorbing all the different offerings, until he spotted the right one.

As Deidara described, the origamist’s hut was plainest of all of them. Like the business card, her hut was painted a stark white that glowed almost blue even in the dull atmosphere of the muggy clouds. The wooden walls of the inside of the hut were undecorated, remaining the light honey-colour of the beech wood that the hut was constructed from. Once inside the hut, the décor and furniture were kept to the minimal, with shelves either side of the hut displaying her work, and a surface at the back of the hut that functioned as a shop counter and work desk.

But Hidan almost liked that. It was unpretentious. It wasn’t pretending to be more than it was. It was just there.

He halted to a stop and peered inside.

A woman, who Hidan assumed must be Konan herself, sat at a high stool behind her counter and work desk, her back held up straight. Only her head bent, as she focused on her work.

Immediately, Hidan’s eyes were drawn to the vibrant blue of her hair, and the way it fell to just above her shoulders. A small section was tied up and wrapped in a bun on the side of her head, with a small paper rose clipped in front. With the small section tied up and the way her head tilted to concentrate on her work, the slim elegant curve of her neck lay exposed, decorated by only the fine silver chain of her necklace. Her lips were parted in concentration, and below her lower lip, a silver piercing winked in the light at him.  
Hidan took several steps forwards, so that he stood directly in front of the open door, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

She didn’t even look up at him as he approached.

That was strange. Most people did look at Hidan whenever he approached. He had quite a distinctive appearance, with silvery hair, unusual lilac eyes, a habit of walking around shirtless but for silver pendent of an inverted triangle enclosed in a circle, and the scars on his arms that he proudly displayed.

Maybe not today because he was wearing a plain white vest underneath his leather jacket due to the cooler breeze and risk of rain, but his colouring and the necklace that was clearly very visible were distinctive enough.

“Excuse me miss?” he asked.

A pair of amber eyes flickered up to meet his.

Her eyes were as unusual as his, so it seemed. Hidan nearly did a double-take, but quickly composed himself.

She regarded him calmly, then spoke. “How may I help you?”

Hidan held up the business card that Sasori gave him. “Are you the origamist?”

“I am an origamist, that is correct,” she replied. Even as her eyes regarded him, her hands remained busy. Folding. Twisting. Bending. A blank piece of paper, empty but for potential, brought to life to become something new. Something new, of whatever she chose.

“I need your help,” said Hidan, tucking the business card away in the back pocket of his jeans.

Konan tilted her head in the opposite direction. “How so?”

“I hate my live-in landlord,” explained Hidan.

Konan’s eyes flittered away from him, back to her work. “I don’t offer tenancy advice. Contact a solicitor.”

“No, no, I don’t need a solicitor,” Hidan shook his head, then walked up the ramp and into the hut. Konan completed the crane she had been making, and then perched it on the opposite end of the counter away from her. Hidan pulled out a stool in front of her work counter, and then perched down. “I just want to prank him and mess with him a bit.”

Konan’s amber eyes narrowed. She had very fine, plucked brows that knotted as her eyes narrowed. Hidan simply couldn’t help stare intently at all her features, noticing the dark defined lashes that framed her amber eyes, that were more defined at the outer corners. Her lips moved, and when she spoke again, she broke his gaze. “Are you sure that is a wise thing to do?”

Realising that sitting at the stool meant that he was shorter than her by several inches, and that he was sitting before her like a naughty schoolboy, Hidan almost wanted to kick himself.

“I don’t think refusing to sort out a tenant’s rat problem is a smart thing to do, but there we are,” Hidan retorted.

A corner of Konan’s mouth twitched. She reached for another piece of paper, and then began to fold it into another crane. “How can I help you, then?”

Hidan reached inside his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He laid the money notes in front of Konan. He’d ensured that the money notes were in multiples of ten, and so there would be plenty for her to work from.

“I want all of these notes of money folded up,” said Hidan. He looked at the square shape of paper that Konan was currently turning into a crane, and then was plagued with sudden doubt. “Can you do it? Can you fold money up?”

“Yes. The practise of folding money into origami sculptures to offer as a token of good luck is an ancient one,” explained Konan, as she completed the second crane. She lifted above her eye level, up to the light from the open door, to study it. “What would you like?”

Hidan scratched the back of his head. “I was thinking maybe into pound signs, or dollar notes, or…”

“How about a rat?” suggested Konan, laying down the crane on the side of the counter and out of the way.

Hidan’s eyes lit up. “You can do rats?”

“I can do anything,” corrected Konan.

“Can they be rats?” asked Hidan.

“If that is your wish,” replied Konan. She reached across the table with fine delicate hands, surprisingly free of paper cuts, Hidan noted. A sure sign of her expertise. She picked up one of the notes of money. Her eyes met Hidan’s. “Are you sure you wish to proceed?”

Hidan nodded.

“You are aware that this is a foolish thing to do, and that you could be putting yourself and your tenancy at risk?”

Hidan nodded. “He’ll find any excuse to chuck me out. I pick one of my own volition.”

“As you wish,” said Konan. Her fingers began to fold, and Hidan watched as the ten-pound note grew in shape, becoming three dimensional. Before long, a small paper rat stared up at him. Hidan lifted a finger, and lightly poked the nose of the rat. It toppled over under his large finger, and so Konan reached over and set it back up again.

“He’s cute,” stated Hidan. “For a rat, anyway…”

Konan’s fingers reached for the next ten-pound note, and they began to fold again. Soon, the rat had a friend perched beside him.

Hidan couldn’t take his eyes away from her. The way her royal blue hair fell across her face as she worked. Her talented, quickly moving hands. How she constructed something quirky and unique from something that seemed so mundane, so ordinary.

He’d never been able to do that.

An army of money rats gathered across the work top. Hidan realised that he hadn’t brought anything to put them in to take them back home. He hadn’t thought this through properly, but it had been a rather impromptu plan. Doubts about whether or not to proceed began to plague him, but he quickly pushed them away. Kakuzu deserved it. He would simply ask Konan for a bag to put the rats in. Perhaps once he arrived back at his flat he would arrange them all over the place, then tell Kakuzu to look for them. But he quickly abandoned that idea when he realised that would mean Kakuzu would start rooting through his belongings.

“How long have you lived there?” asked Konan, her question breaking Hidan from his thoughts and surprising him.

Hidan thought for a moment as he estimated. “A couple of months.”

“What made you move in?”

“Kakuzu…my landlord…he’s about fifty, he’s pretty well off and has this massive house…well, not massive, but a decent-sized house, and it’s just him. He probably bought for like fifty pence in the seventies and now because of inflation is sitting on half a grand. But to bring in extra money he was renting out the ground floor and I took him up on it. It was easier than getting a place than by myself,” explained Hidan. “But he’s such a cheapskate. All of the furniture is from IKEA. I don’t get it. He’s got all this money but won’t buy nice things. And he’s always hounding me for bill money, claiming I’ve used up all the gas for hot water, that I’ve overused the Internet.”

“I see,” said Konan. The folded paper scraped and rustled, as another rat took shape.

“What about you?” asked Hidan. “Where do you live?”

Konan glanced away. “In a house.”

“What kind of house?”

“The kind you live in,” Konan dismissed.

Usually, Hidan would have pressed the issue further. But this woman’s calm authoritative voice stopped all unwanted comments in their tracks. He slouched back on the stool, watching as approximately a third of the money was turned into rats.

He couldn’t stand the silence. He had to talk. He needed to.

“I like the big flower thing hanging on the wall,” Hidan pointed to a large, orchid-shaped flower that had been made from several pieces of paper, folded and slotted and twisted together. It hung from the ceiling by a thin almost invisible string against the wall as the main decorative feature on that side of the hut. “Did you make it?”

Konan’s eyes filled with pride at her creation. “Yes.”

Hidan glanced around for another look at all the origami sculptures. “Did you make all of the things in here?”

“Yes.”

“No assistants at all?”

“None.”

“That’s impressive,” Hidan stared around for a third time. “And how long have you been able to make this…stuff?”

He almost said ‘shit’ but didn’t want to swear at her. Which was unusual, for him. Hidan nibbled his lower lip, unsure of what the hell was happening to him.

“Ever since I was a little girl,” she replied.

“Wow,” Hidan nodded. He turned for a quick glance out the hut, for whether or not anyone else was outside listening. “I was naughty when I was a kid.”

He thought he caught a glimpse of a wry smile concealed behind Konan’s curtain of royal blue hair. There was a silence, as another rat joined the tribe.

“Who taught you then?” asked Hidan.

“My mother did,” replied Konan. Her hands reached for another money note, and then she was folding again, bending, twisting, creating. Hidan watched another rat placed beside the growing collection, and before he could blink, Konan was folding, bending, twisting, creating once again.

“Is she proud of you for…” Hidan trailed off and gestured around the hut. “For making up this business?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know,” said Konan.

“Oh,” Hidan was silenced. He was lost to his thoughts as Konan once again cut the conversation short. Maybe when he got home, he could go upstairs to the first floor and knock on Kakuzu’s door, and throw them all in his face. Or conceal them in a cupboard and tell Kakuzu to look inside and have them all topple on him. Maybe he could even film it and put it on YouTube, and make the thing go viral. Kakuzu would hate him even more for that.

“What about you?” asked Konan. “Where do you work?”

“I’m a Marketing Assistant for a funeral directing company,” replied Hidan.

“Oh?” Konan lifted her head interestedly. “And what do they make you do?”

“I post on social media about how great our funerals are,” explained Hidan.

“How very…macabre,” stated Konan, lowering her gaze back to her work.

“Actually it’s quite beautiful,” said Hidan. “It’s part of life, why should we fear it?”

“When they arrive too suddenly and too soon,” replied Konan. She laid a rat in front of him, and then lay her hands down in her lap, below the counter, where Hidan couldn’t see them. She drew a deep breath, and then composed herself, reaching for another note of money.

“The social media kills the vibe a little, I suppose,” admitted Hidan. “I mean, the last thing you want is to encourage people to take selfies when it’s a time to respect the life of the deceased.”

“No, I suppose not,” the corner of Konan’s mouth twitched. Hidan’s shoulders unclenched. She glanced back at him, now seemingly bemused. “And do you post swatches of the various silk linings for inside the coffins?”

“Give me a follow on Instagram and find out,” replied Hidan.

“Maybe I will.”

Hidan pulled out his phone. “I’ll follow your business too. But from my personal account because I’m only meant to use the company account to follow similar accounts and attract potential customers.”

“I’ll take a proper look once I’m done with these,” Konan reached the last few notes of money. Hidan realised that he almost didn’t want her to stop. He was enjoying her calm voice, the soothing way her hands worked over the paper, and the lowkey conversation. He could have almost fell asleep here, lulled by the gently scrapping of paper being folded and twisted, the push and pull of the tide against the shore, the muggy air, and even the intoxicating scent of Konan.

Hidan sniffed, wondering what perfume she was wearing. It had crept up upon him whilst he had been sitting here, and now her presence seemed even more alluring than ever before.

Hidan pulled out his phone, and then typed her name into Instagram. He scrolled through a list of accounts, until he found hers. He tapped her name, opening up her profile, immediately noticing that Deidara and Sasori already followed her. He tapped the follow button, and then began to scroll down the page.

Nearly all of her photographs were of her origami figures. Each creation was captured in a light bright snap, and positively glowed, even with Hidan’s slightly dimmer phone screen to try and save the battery.

But there were some more personal photos too. Konan clearly understood that as the owner of a small one-woman business, part of her selling point had to be building a rapport with her audience, and that included revealing more of her personality. She had taken pictures of her morning coffee, the view of the sea from her hut, the sunrise over the sea as she walked to work, the flowers growing in her garden at her home, the art galleries and museums she visited, the cafes she ate her lunch at, the artists she collaborated with, the books she read during quiet moments at the hut, the views from her walks along the cliffs, even some of the jewellery she brought for her piercings.

Few and far between, scattered between the pictures of her creations, but they were there.

The captions below each piece were detailed, with plenty of hashtags to draw attention in searches. But there was a sense of generic-ness, a sense that Konan was posting only because she felt obliged too. She wasn’t pouring her heart and soul out on social media. She was holding something back.

Hidan only noticed because he was trained in such matters. To the untrained eye, this looked like an active account. People interacted with her, but seemingly ignored that her answers were one-lined and meant to complete the conversation quickly. He gave a sly glimpse up at Konan, but her attention was focused back on the paper rat in her hand.

_What are you hiding?_

On Hidan’s personal Instagram, he mainly posted selfies and pictures of himself shirtless. He hashtagged everything, some to draw attention in searches, and some that were personal to him. #jashinist #joinme #heathensrepent. Sometimes he posted pictures of the silly antics he and Deidara got up to. #outwithblondie #pranktime #blowingshitup

There was nothing too incriminating that he would feel ashamed if Konan saw. Hell, he wouldn’t even mind if she saw the shirtless pictures, they were pretty damned good if he said so himself.

“All done,” said Konan, laying the last rat in front of him. “If you change your mind, all you have to do is unfold them.”

“Like with your business card?” asked Hidan. He lifted up the business card that Sasori had given him, and felt a singe of disappointment at how he had practically bent it out of shape in his attempts to find her details and the way he’d stashed it in his pocket. The flower petals were uneven and lumpy.

Konan reached over, and in a series of quick rapid folds, returned it to the original shape. She returned it, and Hidan accepted, admiring the freshly folds once again.

“If you ever need to contact me for anything else, you have my details now,” said Konan. “And if you have any friends who ever need an origamist, tell them where they can find me.”

“Sure,” said Hidan. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet to pay Konan for her time.

“Do let me know how your landlord likes his bill money,” added Konan, almost in an afterthought.

“I’ll make sure to,” said Hidan. “Shall I just…come down and tell you?”

“I’m here all day, from half nine to five,” replied Konan, gesturing to a clock on the wall. Hidan stared at it, noticing that the clock was almost made of folded paper and attached to wiring that allowed it to tick. There was a brief pause, and then she spoke again, almost as if she was making an off-beat remark. “But I take a lunch break at two, if you’re interested.”

Hidan nodded, and then glanced down at his army of rats.

“How shall I…?” he trailed off.

Konan glanced at the sheer volume of rats before her. “I have a bag you can use.”

She leant down below the counter and pulled up a brown paper bag. Hidan watched her blow into it, and then pull it open. She balanced it on the edge of the counter, and then scooped up a handful of the rats. Her touch for her creations was gentle, tender even. Hidan copied, scooping up a handful in his larger hands, and dropped them inside the bag. The rustling of the paper sounded like the rats were squeaking.

As Hidan and Konan scooped up the rats into the bag, their fingertips brushed.

Konan did not give any sign that she had reacted to his touch, and instead dropped the next handful of rats into the bag.

When all the rats nestled inside, Hidan opened his wallet, and then pulled out his card. Konan lifted her card reader from behind her counter and laid it before him. Hidan slid the card in, and then Konan typed in the price. She handed it back to him, politely averting her eyes so he could punch in the pin.

“Done,” said Hidan, returning it.

Konan accepted it, and then tore off the receipt that wheeled out. She punched in another button, and a second receipt emerged.

“This is my copy for my records, and then this is for you,” explained Konan, holding it out with her left hand. Hidan accepted it, and then glanced back down.

He did a double take.

On her fourth finger, Konan wore a slim silver band.

Hidan decided not to comment, but stored away the information for later.

“Good luck with your prank,” said Konan, lifting the bag to hand to him.

“Thank you,” said Hidan, accepting the bag. He tucked it over, so that it was slightly more secure, and the rats wouldn’t blow away. He turned back, for one last look at Konan. She offered him a cordial nod of dismissal. Hidan returned the gesture, but then he realised that he was staring, and ought to leave.

He turned and headed back out down the seafront.


	2. Second Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konan reflects on the unusual man who visited her hut, and then makes a rookie error while Instagram-stalking. But will they meet again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for the lovely comments on the last chapter! i appreciate all of your kind words <3
> 
> in this chapter, we switch to Konan's pov and get to see more of her inner life. we also meet Nagato. i would like to make it clear that in no shape or form do i consider disabled people to be a burden on their family and friends, just in this particular case, that Nagato treats Konan quite poorly and they have an unhealthy friendship. Konan does not resent being Nagato's carer, but she is hurt by the way he talks to her, and i would be too. There is a lot more to it that will be revealed later on (namely the circumstances of Yahiko's death).  
> however i apologise if any offense is caused, and i would be grateful for constructive feedback regarding my portrayal.

Konan’s day finished quietly and without further incident. At the closing of business, she carefully removed each paper creation from the door and laid them on the counter, where they would be safe from damage. She counted her money and closed the till, ensuring that any excess cash was firmly tucked in her purse at the bottom of her handbag. When she was satisfied that everything was secure, she closed the doors and clamped on a padlock.

She wrapped her leather jacket around herself, and slung her handbag over her shoulder, so that it bounced against her hip as she walked. She popped an earphone in each ear, and then pressed play on her iPhone. Her walk took her back along the promenade, past the now quiet harbour. The still water lapped against the harbour wall. During the daytime, Konan would have nodded to Kisame, one of the fishermen that she knew.

This evening, she stopped by one of the teashops she was fond of, picking up a bagel and a coffee from Itachi as he closed up. After exchanging pleasantries about their respective days, she was on her way again. She sat down at a bench overlooking the ebbing tide as it crawled up the pebbled shore, recoiled, and then crawled back up again. She nibbled the bagel, sipped her coffee, and tapped her foot in time to the beat of her music.

By now, it was growing dark. Konan dropped the wrapper and the disposable coffee cup into a recycling bin, and then started to walk back into town, towards the community centre. As darkness fell across the streets, the humidity of the day ceased. Konan arrived at the centre early, setting to work by laying out tables and chairs. At each table, she laid out several sheets of origami paper. Some were coloured, some were patterned, and some were plain.

Personally, Konan preferred to work with either plain or lightly coloured paper. The bright patterns could often overpower or conceal the intricacy of the folding. And that was Konan’s speciality; she could do all advanced folding that many others could not.

This evening’s class would be what Konan liked to describe as a general hobbyists’ class. Most of them could handle the basics, and the rest came just for the chance to have a gossip and a catch-up whilst keeping their hands busy.

After a few minutes, her class began to file through the doors. Konan made her way over to the door to greet everyone. She smiled at Sasori, a fellow artist who preferred to work with puppets and modelling. They often accompanied one another on trips to local galleries and museums, strolling along arm in arm and exchanging opinions. Sasori was later joined by Deidara, an art student from the local college, who also worked part-time in Lush. Deidara had taken a shine to them both, and so both Konan and Sasori indulged him by taking him with them on their trips. Deidara enjoyed sculpting with clay…and destroying his creations. Konan thought his fascination with destroying his work was rather strange, but nonetheless left him to enjoy his personal artistic visions.

Once the room was full, Konan closed the door and returned to the front of the room. Tonight, she decided to show the class how to make love-hearts and folded shirts and dresses. These were relatively simple, and always popular. They could be used for pressing on greeting cards, bookmarks, or slipped inside a glass frame to hang on the wall. The class seemed interested and engaged as Konan described what they would be doing today. Her hands moved animatedly in demonstration at the front of the room.

Konan knew she made it look easy.

While the groups of people worked, Konan moved from table to table, offering further insight to their work, re-demonstrating and re-explaining as and when necessary.

Konan allowed the class overrun. Afterwards, she talked to her regulars, and only when the final person left, did she begin to pack her stuff away. She stored her equipment back in the cupboard on the shelf that she had been allocated, wrapped her leather jacket back around herself and slung her handbag over her shoulder.

Out into the night she stepped. Walking alone at night didn’t scare Konan. She tilted her head back confidently, feeling the cool night air kiss her skin, as her feet turned into the pathway home.

It had gone past nine when Konan silently slipped her key into the lock of her house door. She knew the exact and precise angle to place it so there would be minimal clicks and taps as she twisted, and the door would smoothly slide open, allowing her a silent entry to her home. From the outside of the house, Konan could see that the curtains were drawn, and the lights were off in the front room.

In the dark, she slipped off her ankle boots, and laid them on the shoe rack. Her dainty toes danced across the smooth floor, navigating through the house soundlessly.

Passing by Nagato’s room on the ground floor at the back of the house, Konan noticed the low light from under the door of the downstairs bedroom. That meant that he was lying in bed with his bedside table lamp on, either reading, browsing on his laptop, or dozing with his television on before he fell asleep properly. She hesitated, holding her breath in the hall outside, to see if she could hear anything. There was a slight buzz, meaning that he was likely watching the television.

Konan exhaled deeply. The television and its closer proximity to Nagato meant that it would mask any noise she made.

In the kitchen, she slowly and carefully opened the fridge, and pulled out a leftover pasta dish she had made the other night. She winced at the noise of the microwave door opening, and the sound as it closed. To minimise sounds, she didn’t bother going upstairs, or touching or moving anything around the house yet.

When the meal was finished heating, Konan slide it onto a plate, taking a single fork to reduce washing up, and crept up the stairs. Her feet carefully avoided each creak on the stairs, until she reached the top. Konan had the upstairs of the house to herself, and for that, she was grateful. She locked her bedroom door behind her, and then laid down the pasta dish on her desk. A few origami owls were shuffled aside to make space for it, crowding on top of her almost buried laptop.

She pulled her handbag off her shoulder, shrugging her shoulders with relief, then perched it on her desk chair. She hung her jacket on the back of her door, before flicking on the lamp on her bedside table. The white room with the low sloping ceilings was bathed in a low, yet comforting light, revealing the few simple possessions that Konan kept in here. A Diptyque candle that had once been an impulsive treat. Red nail varnish. A white jewellery box. Stationary. Paper. Lots of paper.

Konan undressed, slipping into a light pink silk nightdress and matching dressing gown, before eating sitting upright in bed. It was odd for a grown woman to be sitting in her pyjamas eating in bed; this was behaviour Konan would have expected to have left behind in her late teens or at the very least, early twenties. But tonight, she wanted peace and quiet, and to gather her thoughts.

After finishing her dinner, she slipped out to the bathroom, and brushed her teeth. She huddled back under the duvet and the blanket throw with the geometric pattern in white and light grey, comforted by the soft texture and the knowledge that there was nothing else she needed to do around the house. But it felt too early for her to fall asleep.

Her mind turned back to the events of the day. The morning had been quiet, she’d eaten her lunch at the hut, and in the afternoon, began to fold up some orders from her online Etsy shop. And then there was that man, the unusual looking man with the silvery hair and the magenta eyes. He’d worn a strange amulet around his neck on a silver chain, and a leather jacket with a large fur hood.

His request to turn his cash into origami rats had certainly been one of the more amusing requests she’d received over the years. She had invited him back, to tell her how the prank had gone, but doubted he would. He seemed strangely resolute as he left, that he really was leaving, and wouldn’t be back to see her again.

After he left, Konan spent the hours parcelling her Etsy orders into jiffy bags, and tomorrow afternoon, she would take them to the post office after she closed. Her day would carry on, as it had before, for many years now, as she built her business up from the ground.

Before switching off for the evening, Konan lifted her phone, to see who had commented and liked her posts today, and to reply to any outstanding messages or requests on her accounts.

She scrolled through her Facebook, frowning at the late hours people thought it was appropriate to send enquiries to what was obviously a small, one-woman business. Thank goodness she didn’t possess a public phone number. She dreaded to think what time people would think it was acceptable to ring her.

Konan shook her head and decided not to open any of the messages until the morning. She would make them wait for a reply until an appropriate business hour. Logging out of the app, and letting the green online light fade to red, she turned to her second business app, Instagram.

There were several notifications awaiting her, including someone asking her if she would host an origami-themed kids’ birthday party. Konan groaned inwardly. It wasn’t that she was opposed to inspiring young children to take up the hobby, but people tended to expect her to babysit and provide the food and party bags, which she had no budget to do.

She ignored the request, deciding they could wait until the morning too. Already she formulated a reply in her head, requesting more information on how many children they planned to invite and a firm warning that she did not cater and an even firmer request that the parents of the children remained in attendance throughout.

She scrolled to the next notification.

_HidanxJashin followed you_

Konan blinked.

So…he had been serious when he said he would follow her. Konan tapped on his username, before being taken to his page.

 _Hidan_  
_22, marketing assistant, look at my six pack_

Konan gave an amused shake of her head, before glancing at his followers. They seemed to mainly consist of his friends, his work colleagues, former university classmates. He followed a few people; his friends, several brands, and local businesses that he frequented, with Konan’s being the most recent. But he had more followers than he was following, a sure sign of popularity.

Konan started to scroll through his page. The first picture was a very recent one, and it was one of the money rats she had created earlier that day. She tapped on it, curious to see what Hidan had put.

_‘Say hello to my new mate. He’s going to help me with something fun #stupidlandlord #moneyrat’_

There were lots of likes and comments on the picture so far. Konan couldn’t resist scrolling through and looking at who had liked the picture of her work. She tapped back, and then began to scroll through the comments.

_‘Did you make it Hidan??’_

Hidan had replied beneath, and when Konan looked, the message was only a few minutes old.

He was online.

_‘No I went to a professional! He’s cool isn’t he? Might keep one for a pet XD’_

Konan pressed back, and then began to scroll through Hidan’s Instagram page. A lot of his pictures were selfies and shirtless ones of himself in the gym.

_‘Lifting these bad boys today! #workout #gym #lifting’_

Without his shirt on, he was quite ripped. Konan blinked. From underneath the jacket and vest he’d been wearing earlier, Konan could tell he was muscled, but she didn’t realise he was that muscled. He’d also uploaded pictures of his protein shakes he’d bought and pictures of the steakhouses he visited. Hidan seemed to like meat.

Konan scrolled back up, and then tapped ‘follow,’ smiling deviously to herself. She’d made him wait a few hours until she followed back. For some reason, she liked the idea of keeping him hanging and leaving him wondering what she was thinking.

She began to scroll back down again, indulgently clicking on the shirtless pictures and taking a good long look at each of them. As her finger lifted away from a picture Hidan had taken freshly out of the shower, with his silvery hair messily falling over his face, droplets of water running down his bare chest, the pad of her fingertip brushed back against the screen, double-tapping the picture…and liking it.

_FUCK._

Konan threw her phone away on the bed and covered her mouth, horrified.

_He’s going to get a notification. He’s going to know I’ve been looking. FUCK FUCK FUCK._

Briefly, she debated what to do, whether to quickly unlike the picture, but it would be too late for him not to receive the notification. Instead she settled for staying calm and leaving it as it was. He had a popular, active account, he probably wouldn’t notice.

Konan set her alarm for seven thirty, like usual, and then laid it on the bedside table, plugged in to charge overnight. She switched off the bedside table light and then burrowed down further beneath the blankets, pulling them completely over her shoulders. Slowly, she spread out across the mattress, allowing her body to warm the crisp sheets.

Was it possible to feel simultaneously incredibly used to sleeping in a cold bed alone, and yet still incredibly alienated and surprised by it? Konan asked herself the same question every night.

She shivered, then thrummed her body below the blankets to warm up. She lay still, listening to the silence in the room, allowing her mind and body to slowly switch off.

But as the silence swelled, thoughts and doubts began to creep in.

_I should have checked on Nagato._

Konan shook her head against the pillow, before rolling onto her side.

_His door was closed. He didn’t want to be bothered._

Konan allowed the darkness to reach up and claim her, her eyes fluttering closed.

* * *

The following morning, her phone buzzed. One elegant hand reached over and tapped stop, red-orange nails clicking against the screen to turn off the alarm. Konan sat upright, sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes. She swung her feet out of the warmth of the sheets, slipping her feet into fluffy slippers.

Down in the kitchen, sitting up at the table, Nagato nursed a cup of coffee. Red hair hung limply over his grey-white face. Without even looking up to greet her, he stated. “You were late home last night.”

His lack of acknowledgement of her physical presence stung. There was no  _'_ _Good morning Konan,'_ no _'Did you sleep well, Konan?'_ Just  _'_ _You were late home last night.'_

Like she was a naughty teenage girl caught sneaking out.

“My origami class overran,” replied Konan. She opened the fridge, and pulled out the milk, noting that Nagato hadn’t made her a coffee, nor had he left any hot water in the kettle for her. “Your door was closed when I arrived home, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I was watching the news,” said Nagato. He shook his head. “It’s terrible what they’re doing in-”

“Yes, it is,” Konan agreed quickly, refilling the kettle. Because she knew how the ensuing conversation would go before it even began. Nagato would begin to rail and rant about an injustice in the world, leaving her to nod along without even being offered the chance to contribute to the conversation, or change it to a topic of her choosing. And then, he would look at her, expecting her to say something.

And it would always be the wrong thing.

Konan would mention a form of resistance or protest or manner of making a difference to whatever Nagato was railing about, and then Nagato would stare down his nose and tell her it wouldn’t work, that no politicians would ever listen, and make her feel foolish for suggesting it.

Or she could remind him that nothing they could do would change things, and then Nagato would rail at her for not caring and saying that because people like her were doing nothing, that was why no change was being made.

All that Konan was to him…was his outlet.

“Do you know what’s going on?” asked Nagato.

“I saw it on Twitter this morning,” replied Konan, flicking on the kettle and then spooning a teaspoon of coffee into her favourite mug. “But I didn’t read too much of it as I had messages to reply to on Etsy, Facebook and Instagram.”

Nagato turned away to scroll through his iPad. Konan’s shoulders sagged with relief, as she averted the conversation. Already, she had begun to feel tired, and she wasn’t even dressed or out of the house yet.

“I suppose you’ll be out all day again today,” Nagato sulked.

“I’m afraid so,” said Konan. “Tonight I have the small business committee meeting, as we have the elections coming up in a few weeks.”

“I’ll be on my own all day then. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself,” stated Nagato.

“Haven’t you got any of your articles to write?” asked Konan, as the kettle pinged. She turned away, and began to pour hot water into her mug, adding milk and stirring.

“I suppose,” Nagato folded his arms, the sleeves of his dressing gown wrinkling. It was too big for him, Konan noted. All of Nagato’s clothes were too big for him. He was losing weight rapidly, and in his case, it was not a good thing. Konan resolved to feed him more meals with pasta.

“Do you need help dressing before I go later? Any pain meds?”

Nagato glanced back down at his wheelchair, from where he’d parked himself up at the table. “No. I think I can manage today.”

Konan sipped at her drink. “All right. I’m going to get ready. Call me if you need anything.”

Nagato waved her on. Konan hated to be almost…dismissed in such a fashion, yet decided it would be easier to make her exit than begin a pointless confrontation.

In her room, she combed through her blue hair, tying up a small section into a bun, and adorning it with the paper flower clip. She lightly applied lilac eyeshadow, black eyeliner and black mascara. She swept on some highlighter to her cheekbones, and then some pale pink lipstick.

Out of her drawers she grabbed her underwear, then sifted through her wardrobe rail, settling on a crisp white blouse, slim cut black trousers, and a matching blazer. She laid a silver necklace over her collarbones, struggling with the clasp but eventually succeeding. She transferred her purse, keys, phone and various other belongings from her over the shoulder handbag to a slightly fancier arm bag. If she was going to a meeting tonight, then she wanted to look smart.

Back downstairs, Konan picked out a tub of overnight oats from the fridge that she had made a few days ago, and tucked it into her handbag.

“There’s leftovers in one of the Tupperware pots for dinner, Nagato,” she stated.

“Lucky me,” Nagato replied morosely, his bony finger scrolling through his iPad.

“I’ll cook some fresh stuff at the weekend,” replied Konan.

“You’ll be out, because you get most of your trade on a Saturday,” corrected Nagato.

“Then I’ll cook it Saturday evening,” Konan turned, making her way towards the door. _I’m trying so hard here._

“Konan,” called Nagato. He reached for her with his arms. Konan stepped back across the room, accepting him into her embrace. His red hair brushed against her stomach as he nestled his head against her body, and Konan gently ran her fingers through the strands.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Konan patted his forehead. _How can you be the sweet boy I loved as a brother so many years ago and now be so bitter and resentful and yet still be him? How?_

“Go,” said Nagato, releasing her. “It’s just another day.”

“Just another day,” echoed Konan, before turning on her heel. She hurried out the house, and closed the door, exhaling the air deeply. Today, the fresh air promised a cool breeze and warmth. Konan tilted her head to feel the rays on the newly risen sun on her face.

It was good to be out.

She made her way down to the hut, music beating into her ears. At her hut, she swung open the doors, and began to hang her creations back up on the door. She flicked on the till, her card reader, and opened her laptop to start replying to her emails. Mid-morning, she ate her overnight oats as a late breakfast, and then began to start folding up more Etsy orders and any core staple pieces to sell readymade in the hut that she had grown low on. A few customers came, gazed around, some bought a few sculptures, others left without a word.

Around midday, Konan had grown bored. Bored and curious. She slid open her phone, and then went to look at Hidan’s Instagram page.

There was an update.

One of her origami rats sitting perched inside of a limited edition vintage book. Hidan had typed a caption, _‘Wonder how #stupidlandlord will like his new friend…or should I say friends… #moneyrat #myorigamiratarmy’_

Konan scrolled through the comments, realising that Hidan hadn’t replied to any yet, and that he was probably still working. Instead, she began to scroll back through his collection of selfies and gym pictures. Colour crept into her cheeks as she remembered her rookie error of accidently liking one of his older pictures last night. Konan shook her head quickly and reminded herself that she was a grown woman.

At the close of business, Konan picked up all her orders, hauling them up to the post office. Each was stamped and paid for, and Konan spent the next half an hour sitting in Itachi’s café, mulling over a coffee as she marked each item as dispatched and left feedback on her buyers via the Etsy app.

“I’m closing up early for Friday, Konan,” said Itachi, turning the sign on the door.

“I won’t be long,” Konan took a deep sip of her coffee.

“I’m attending the small business committee meeting,” explained Itachi.

“As am I,” replied Konan. “I’ll accompany you.”

“Perfect,” said Itachi, moving through the room to begin wiping down the tables. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

Relief pooled in her lower stomach that she didn’t need to return home just yet. Konan took a smaller sip of her coffee, and went back to attending her Facebook and Instagram accounts.

Before the committee meeting, Itachi tucked a selection of cakes and buns into basket. “If they’re not eaten today, they’ll go stale overnight,” he explained. He met her eye. “Perhaps…Nagato might like one?”

Konan offered him one of her rare smiles. “I’m sure he would.”

They stepped out onto the ramp leading into the café. Itachi began to lock the door, as Konan remembered how she’d stood before the entire small business committee, and complained about the lack of accessibility in the town. Only the twenty-one-year-old Itachi had taken up the call to install a ramp, as she had done at her hut, whilst the others protested against the cost.

A hollow excuse.

They walked through the streets together making small talk. Konan asked about his family. Itachi knew better than to ask about hers. At the meeting, they sat together, after Itachi laid out the basket on the middle of the table for everyone to help themselves.

The meeting ran over two hours, even as people began to stamp their feet. Konan waited until the very end, and then accepted the selection of cakes and buns that Itachi gave her. It was now eight ‘o’ clock. She still wasn’t ready to go home. Wasn’t ready to face Nagato and his baleful eyes.

After assuring Itachi that she would walk to the end of the road and then call a cab safely home, Konan instead turned in the direction of one of the local pubs. It was a reputable pub, for the most part. Even Dr. Tsunade Senju frequented it well enough.

Tonight, Konan made her way to the bar in the centre of the room and ordered a glass of wine. Men turned their heads in her direction, but she ignored each and every one of them. None of them were worth her time. Her gaze flickered down to the bar counter, glowing with the stickiness of spilled drinks that never left, no matter how often the bar staff wiped it, where she rested her left hand and stared at her silver ring on her fourth finger.

The bar staff wove back and forth around each other, carrying pints to old, bald men slumped over the counter who had nothing better to do with their Friday night. When it was her turn, Konan accepted her glass of wine, and then sipped it slowly, her gaze firmly fixed on her hand as she stared and stared at her ring.

“Oi, oi, oi! Didn’t think I’d see you in here!” greeted Hidan, slamming himself down on the bar stool beside her. His cheeks were pink from drinking, and he still wore his work clothes, which was a black suit and white shirt. The top two buttons of his shirt were loose, and he had removed his tie. Konan noticed the silver pendent that he had been wearing the previous day dangling underneath his collar.

With their white shirts, black trousers and black blazers, Konan's silver necklace and Hidan's pendent, their outfits matched. They complimented each other, like two bookends.

“Hello Mr…” Konan trailed off. On his Instagram account, he called himself HidanxJashin, so Konan assumed that Jashin was his surname. “Mr. Jashin.”

“Oh, that’s not my surname,” Hidan shook his head. “That’s my god.”

“As you say,” Konan turned back to her wine.

Hidan nudged her. “Want to see how my landlord liked his rats?”

“Sure,” said Konan.

Hidan reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone. He offered her a cheeky grin. “I noticed you liked my picture.”

Konan’s cheeks flared petal pink.

 _It’s the wine,_ she told herself. _I’m not embarrassed. I don’t care._

“Show me how your landlord liked my rats,” instructed Konan.

“All right, all right,” Hidan opened up Facebook. “I made myself get up at four am and sneak up to his floor and I stashed them in his cupboard, leaving a few around the place just to wind him up more. Then I left a camera up with a live feed to my Facebook. So if you want to watch from here…”

Hidan opened the video and scrolled to a scene of a kitchen. An older man with tanned skin, long brown-black hair and facial scars wandered into view. He was wearing a dressing gown, and yawned sleepily. He reached for the cupboard, then yelled in surprise as Konan’s rats toppled out on him.

“HIDAN!” he roared. “YOU-YOU FUCKING LITTLE SHIT! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Hidan howled with laughter over the music pounding out the stereo, slapping his hand against his thigh. He turned to the bar and signalled to the bartender. “Can we have two Jaegerbombs please?”

“Poor Kakuzu,” stated Konan.

“Wait, you know the old fucker?” frowned Hidan.

“He’s my landlord too,” replied Konan. “For my hut. I own my house.”

“Kakuzu owns all the huts?” asked Hidan.

“Yes, he's a wealthy property owner in the area, and he invested in the project,” replied Konan.

Two Jaegerbombs were slammed down in front of them. Hidan handed over a five-pound note, then offered one of the Jaegerbombs to Konan.

“I bought it for you,” said Hidan.

What on earth compelled her to accept, Konan had no idea. But nonetheless her painted nails wrapped around the glass.

“One…” grinned Hidan. “Two…three!”

They downed their Jaegerbombs. Konan coughed at the syrupy sting of the Jaeger and the sickly sweetness of the accompanying energy drink, and then took a long gulp of her wine instead.

“What brings you here this evening then?” asked Konan.

“Well…” Hidan looked sheepish. “Kakuzu has kind of locked me out.”

“That’s illegal,” stated Konan.

“Well, that’s Kakuzu,” explained Hidan. “I thought I’d come out for the evening while he cooled off…if he doesn’t let me in, I suppose I’ll just have to break in. I’m pretty sure there’s some bricks in the garden shed.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Konan replied.

Hidan turned back to the barstaff. “Can we have another two Jaegerbombs please?”

Konan was nearly at the end of her glass of wine. She glanced at the clock, realising she had wasted an hour of her time in here. Nagato would be missing her. Konan thought about the way he had reached for her this morning, the way he had repeated that old phrase ‘just another day,’ that they had used to keep each other going for so many years, and felt a pang of guilt. She should get back home to be with him. Even if he did drone on and rant at her, she was his only social outlet because he couldn't get out easily. And that really wasn’t his fault.

That was hers.

“I should honestly get going,” said Konan, reaching for her handbag and the bag of cakes Itachi had given her. “It was nice to see you again…Hidan.”

“No, no, stay,” Hidan reached for her hand, and then squeezed her fingers. “Stay. Let me buy you another one of those. A thank you for helping me piss Kakuzu off spectacularly. Honestly this was even better than the time I made him a Tinder account and hooked him up with a gambling addict and a drunkard.”

Konan quirked a thin eyebrow upright. “And how did Kakuzu like the gambling addict and the drunkard?”

Hidan shrugged. “Same person.”

“You’re an idiot,” Konan wanted to shake her head and roll her eyes, but an unexpected laugh escaped through her lips, and then it was too late to hold it back.

Hidan winked enthusiastically. He looked positively adorable. “If you sit down I’ll tell you all about it…”

Konan perched back down.

The barman brought over the next two Jaegerbombs. Hidan held out a five-pound note to pay for them, before adding. “Another pint for me, and another glass of whatever wine the lovely lady has just finished.”

_Lovely lady._

Konan internally scolded her heart for beating several times too quickly in a rapid succession. Hidan handed her one of the Jaegerbombs, and then lifted his. They clinked glasses, before downing the shots.

“So, what brings you out this evening?” asked Hidan, slamming his shot glass back on the bar top.

“I just finished work, and needed to unwind,” explained Konan, deciding to keep it short and sweet. The barman delivered her wine and Hidan’s pint. She let him pay, before taking a sip.

“Wait, you were open that late?” asked Hidan.

“No, no,” Konan shook her head. “I had to attend the Small Business Committee meeting. We’re having elections for representatives in the next few weeks. I’ve decided to stand.”

“You have?” asked Hidan.

Konan nodded. She swilled her wine and took a sip. “There’s a lot of things that I think need to be done in this town. Inclusivity, for example…I’m well-liked and respected amongst my peers on the committee for the most part, so why not?”

Hidan stared at her curiously, and then smiled. “Good for you.”

The simple admiration in his small comment made Konan’s heart soar in her chest. Hidan didn’t even realise, as he took a sip of his pint. Konan took another sip of her wine while he drank and beat her heart back down again, as she took a brief silent moment to reflect. Yes, there was no doubt in her mind that she would make an excellent representative, and that there was a high chance she would be voted in, but the work and home balance was a concern. Nagato wouldn’t like the extra hours that she spent out of the house, but if Konan could be in a position to provide more accessibility to the town which would allow him to get out more, which would help him to feel less isolated, then surely that could only be a good thing…

“Where are you going after this?” asked Hidan.

“Home,” replied Konan.

“Not the club?”

“Definitely not.”

“Don’t you like clubbing?” asked Hidan.

“Maybe ten years ago,” replied Konan.

Hidan looked at her curiously. “Hey, how old are you?”

“You should never ask a lady her age,” Konan dismissed.

Hidan studied her face, his magenta eyes narrowed keenly as he analysed her features.

“All right then, my guess is that you are…twenty-eight," he decided.

Konan was definitely not twenty-eight, but decided not to correct Hidan. Instead she took another sip of wine, and then asked. “How so?”

“Well, legally, you’re not allowed to go clubbing until you’re eighteen, and you seem for the most part an upstanding citizen, so if you last enjoyed clubbing ten years ago, then I’m saying you have to be twenty-eight, at the absolute latest,” explained Hidan.

“And do you think I have _always_ been an upstanding citizen?” asked Konan demurely.

Hidan stared at her, his face breaking into a grin. He snickered. “Something you’re not telling me?”

“You’ve had too much to drink,” stated Konan, gesturing to his nearly empty pint glass. She glanced at the clock, and rapidly remembered that Nagato would be expecting her. The relaxed and happy mood that Hidan had induced in her was stolen by pangs of guilt again. “It’s time for you to go home.”

“I’ve only had two Jaegers and a few pints,” protested Hidan. “You’ve been having wine.”

“I can handle it,” Konan climbed to her feet, and lifted her handbag onto her shoulder and the bags of cakes for Nagato in her hand. “I’ll walk you home. I’d rather you weren’t in the street getting into scraps.”

“I can handle that,” Hidan protested, as Konan manhandled him out of his stool. “You should see all the other guys…did I tell you what I did to Asuma Sarutobi?”

“I don’t know him and I don’t care what you did to him.”

“I fucked him up real good,” Hidan grinned.

“Congratulations. I’m sure your parents are very proud,” replied Konan. She guided Hidan out of the bar, and into the street. Hidan stumbled in the fresh air, and Konan had to support him upright with her free arm. “What’s your address?”

Hidan told her.

“That’s a few streets away from me. I’ll take you there,” said Konan.

“Where are we going?” Hidan asked. “Your place or mine?”

“Both. You at your place, and me at mine.”

Konan practically carried Hidan down the streets, heading in the direction of her home. Thank goodness she was used to lifting and helping Nagato, as it meant she was able to lift and guide Hidan whenever he stumbled. Hidan was heavier than Nagato, being a younger and healthier man, and his weight sagged against Konan. She held the bag of cakes away, holding he wouldn’t crush them before she could present them to Nagato.

“Is this it?” asked Konan, as they finally stood outside of a three-storey house.

“Sure,” Hidan staggered up the pathway, and then tried to put his key in the lock. He clumsily missed several times, before giving up and hammering on the door with his fists. “HEY KAKUZU!”

“Hidan!” hissed Konan, glaring around as some of the lights flickered on in the neighbouring houses. “Shut up!”

“KAKUZUUUUUUU!!!” yelled Hidan, lifting his head up to the front window on the first floor. “HEY BUDDY! LET ME IN!”

“Hidan, stop it!” Konan instructed. “Unlock the door yourself.”

“I can’t,” Hidan fumbled with the key again, giving several frustrated twists and tugs. “The fucker has deadlocked it from the inside.”

Konan shook her head. _I don’t believe it._

“I guess…” Hidan wandered into the front garden, and then lay down on the grass ridiculously. “I guess I’ll sleep out here.”

More neighbouring lights flickered on. Konan shook her head again. “No, that’s not a good idea. Get up. You’ll have to stay at mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm aware it might have been a little ooc for Konan to go to the pub and to actively avoid Nagato to some extent, but i needed her to be able to meet Hidan again, and i hope her guilt for staying away from Nagato came across enough.
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan wakes up in a strange room, with a blurry memory of how he got there. He and Deidara go for a drive, and end up fighting on a dual carriageway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we last saw Konan taking a screaming Hidan home with her...what on earth could have happened since then?!
> 
> as a heads up, Hidan makes some ableist comments regarding Nagato. I apologise in advance if anyone feels triggered by them, and he is rightly called out by Konan for them. However, Hidan does in turn call out Nagato for his manipulative behaviour towards Konan.
> 
> the scene in Hidan's car with the condom is based on this YouTube prank https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERCpTrcmWrg

Hidan roused from the depths of sleep to a horrible pressing sensation at the front and back of his head. Immediately he recognised it as a hangover and limply laid his head back against the pillow, finding movement to be an uncomfortable chore. He burrowed further under the blanket, wanting to hide from the world, deciding that he didn’t need to wake up or move yet. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain to go away.

_Where am I?_

Hidan woke with a grunt and allowed his magenta eyes to flicker open. The throbbing had dulled to an ache, and he could lift his head more easily, so he knew he had to have fallen back asleep for a few more hours, which had given the hangover some time to lift. He was in a room…someone else’s living room, and it was definitely not any part of Kakuzu’s house.

His eyes scanned around the room, absorbing the neutral white and grey tones of the room, the white coffee table, and the charcoal grey fabric of the sofa he rested on. There was a white ceramic heart-shaped dish of lavender pot pourri on the coffee table. Hanging on the wall were a few frames with arrangements of pressed flowers. On the other side of the room, there was a white mantelpiece over a fake fireplace, with an unusual closed vase sitting in the very centre on top.

Hidan settled back against the pillow, wondering where he was and what on earth had happened last night. Fragments of memories drifted back to him, like ash from a bonfire as it settled over a field.

He remembered arriving home from work, arguing with Kakuzu before he’d even kicked his shoes off, being locked out, and then heading down to the pub in a rage. He remembered downing pint after pint, trying to settle his racing mind. And then…  
Konan.

Hidan inhaled deeply, recognising her floral scent on the blanket he huddled under.

His eyes darted around the room again, trying to find clues and traces of her, as he wondered whether this was Konan’s house he was in. The heart-shaped dish, the cool neutral colours, the pressed flowers on the wall; they seemed to fit with Konan’s minimalistic style.

And if it was Konan’s house that he was in, then Hidan was thoroughly disappointed to realise he was on her sofa and not in her bed.

He remembered the pub clearly now, spotting her staring at her hand splayed like a white star fish on the dark wood of the bar miserably, all on her own. He was surprised to see her alone. He wasn’t sure why, as whilst she certainly struck him as a solitary individual, he’d assumed that a put-together woman like Konan would have had somewhere better to be on a Friday night. He remembered sitting down, and buying a few Jaegerbombs and some more drinks to cheer her up. He even remembered her smiling and laughing at his silly comments at various points.

Hidan smiled to himself, even as his head panged. He snuggled further down under the blanket, his fingers wrinkling into the folds, wondering what the time was. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks of heavy charcoal grey curtains. It was pale yellow translucent sunlight, so he knew that it was still early morning, and he hadn’t slept until the afternoon.

He heard a door open further down the hallway, and then waited, expecting Konan to emerge in the doorway. He wondered what she wore to sleep in. He pictured a black silk negligee trimmed with black lace, but then shook his head. No, it seemed more likely that she’d wear a white satin camisole and shorts that hugged her figure.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the scrap of wheels, some masculine grunts, and then the sound of a door being pushed open. Hidan frowned.

Then he remembered the silver wedding band on Konan’s left hand. Maybe that was her husband. His heart skipped a beat, stunned at Konan’s gall in bringing a strange man back to what must be her marital home.

But he didn’t know the whole story. Maybe it was a loveless marriage. Maybe her husband had other lovers too. Hidan didn’t know Konan. Not really. Not at all.

He was almost slipping off back to sleep when the bathroom door opened again, and then there was another scrap of wheels.

“What the-!” yelped a voice. Hidan flung his eyes open, to spot a redheaded man perched in a wheelchair staring at him from the doorway of the room. “KOOOOOONAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

“Do you mind?! Not so loud,” Hidan winced, clutching his ears.

There was the sound of a door opening, and then Konan’s light elegant footsteps as she descended down the stairs. Hidan saw her bare feet first and realised that she painted her toenails the same colour as her finger nails. Then there was a rustle of silk, and Konan appeared before them on the stairs clad in a pink silk dressing gown and nightdress. It was somehow better than he’d imagined. He hadn’t expected Konan to wear pink, as he’d only ever seen her monochromatic black and white. The pink made her seem younger, more vulnerable and innocent, even.

“Who the hell is this strange man on our sofa?!” demanded the redhead.

“It’s all right, Nagato,” Konan laid a reassuring hand on the redheaded man’s shoulder. “This is Hidan. I allowed him to stay last night.”

“What?” Nagato yelled. “What? You think you can just invite a random guy to stay without asking me?”

“It was a last minute thing,” Konan explained tiredly. Hidan watched as her whole body language deflated around the man. He frowned to himself, too drowsy and hungover to leap in with his retorts yet.

“Last minute?” demanded Nagato, slapping a bony hand against his narrow thigh. “Do you have any idea what I was going through last night, when you didn’t come home? No text, no call…I was on my own all night!”

The redhead turned and glared at Hidan.

“Meanwhile, you’re out, picking up random men, and leaving me…” Nagato trailed off, and then his voice turned soft. He pushed his limp tomato red hair off his face. The bright red of his hair contrasted with his otherwise sickly demeanour. “I was here, on my own. I was scared.”

Konan’s hand gently stroked a reassuring circle on Nagato’s shoulder.

“Who are you, her husband?” Hidan finally asked, sitting upright.

“What? Her husband?” Nagato asked, turning to face Hidan. His face crinkled, and suddenly he laughed mirthlessly. “I’m not Konan’s husband.”

“He’s not my husband,” confirmed Konan. She ceased stroking Nagato’s shoulder, and pointed to the closed vase on the mantelpiece. “That’s my husband.”

Realisation quickly dawned on Hidan. The closed vase was an _urn_.

“Holy Jashin! That’s someone’s ashes?! I’ve been sleeping in a room with a dead person staring at me all night?!” he yelped. He leapt up off the sofa, clutching the blanket, but realised there was nowhere to escape too. Both Konan and Nagato blocked the doorway.

Konan folded her arms curtly. “I didn’t think it would be that shocking, considering your line of work.”

Hidan shook his head. “No, no, that’s not right. You don’t keep dead people in your living room. You have the funeral, you say goodbye, then you bury them or scatter the ashes someplace nice, you respect their last wishes. _You don’t store them in your living room like a piece of furniture_!”

“We don’t _store him_ ,” snarled Nagato. He turned back to Konan. “Get this idiot out of here.”

“And who do you think you are, telling Konan what to do in her own house?” Hidan snarled back.

Nagato looked taken aback.

“That’ll do, Hidan, Nagato,” instructed Konan. She closed her eyes briefly. “I’ll put the kettle on. We could all do with a coffee. Or tea.”

Hidan sat back down on the sofa, giving another wary glance towards the urn. He mentally kicked himself for not realising sooner. This was getting weirder and weirder by the second, and Hidan was no stranger to weird things.

Nagato shook his head disgustedly at Hidan, and then began to wheel himself into the kitchen. Konan followed, and then Hidan heard her flick the kettle on. He lifted the blanket over his nose, and then inhaled deeply one last time.

It smelled so sweet.

He pushed away the blanket reluctantly, and then noticed his suit jacket and trousers draped across an armchair. His shirt lay next to them, and he’d slept in his underwear. His Jashinist pendent still hung safely around his neck. Hidan gave it a brief kiss, and then wondered whether or not to put his work clothes back on for breakfast, but then decided against it. Let Nagato seethe.

He wandered out of the living room, finding himself back in a hallway. He seemed to remember Konan guiding him through here in the dark now, her hand on his arm, hushing him to be quiet and asking him to take his shoes off. If his memory served him correctly, there was another coffee table he’d stumbled on by the door and Konan had hauled him back upright and hissed a reminder at him to be quiet. Hidan stepped over towards it, finding his shoes tucked underneath, and then picked up the letters stashed on top, hardly able to resist sneaking a peek. All of them looked like they were bills, and they were all addressed to Konan.

As Hidan rummaged through, he did find a few healthcare related letters, which were addressed to Nagato.

Realising that he was taking a suspiciously long time to join them, he followed the trail into the kitchen. As he walked further into the house, he noticed that both Nagato and Konan had decorated their house sparsely. There were some personal effects, but he had to really look for them. There was nothing left lying around abandoned on the floor, it was all swept away tidily. Everything was stored at a low, easy-to-reach level for Nagato, and there were various handles for him to grasp to allow himself to move through the house.

The kitchen was painted a light blue, with pale grey worktops. Nagato had wheeled himself over to the kitchen table, rummaging through a bag of cakes and waiting as Konan brought him a coffee. The kitchen table, Hidan noted, was not unlike the tables that Itachi had selected for his café. Maybe the same craftsperson had made it. Konan turned, and handed one to Hidan as he joined them. Nagato took one look at Hidan in his underwear, and shook his head again.

“You got a problem?” demanded Hidan.

“Stop it,” commanded Konan. Her voice had such a steel ring of authority, that immediately Hidan obeyed. Almost meekly, he sipped his coffee, and sat down opposite Nagato.

“So…you are his…sister?” asked Hidan, glancing from Konan to Nagato and back. He couldn’t think of any other reason why two adults would be living together.

Konan turned to Nagato.

“You could say that,” Nagato replied.

“You don’t look alike,” Hidan stared at Konan’s blue hair and amber eyes, and then at Nagato’s tomato red hair and light purple eyes. As Hidan stared more closely at Nagato’s eyes, he noticed that he had unusual irises, that almost had the effect of swirls. Both Konan and Nagato were fair skinned, although Konan had a glow to her, and Nagato seemed paler, greyer even.

“No, we’re not related,” explained Konan.

“Step?” offered Hidan.

“Adoptive,” corrected Nagato.

“Oh, right,” said Hidan.

“How do you feel this morning, Hidan?” asked Konan.

Hidan stared at his coffee. Having had something to drink, and to settle his stomach, the aching in his head began to lessen.

“Better,” he replied. He turned back to face her. “What happened?”

“Your landlord locked you out,” replied Konan. “After you filmed him being attacked by several hundred origami rats.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Hidan scratched his head. “I was at work, and I left a camera up in kitchen attached to my Facebook. I remember going to the pub.”

“Why were you in a pub?” Nagato scowled at Konan. “You said you were coming home last night.”

“It’s none of your business where she was and what she was doing with her time,” Hidan scorned.

“That’s enough,” said Konan. She turned to Hidan. “You were drinking heavily, and so I took you home. Your landlord had deadlocked the door, and after stopping you from screaming in the street and sleeping in the front garden, I brought you back here to sleep.”

“Because you care about me right?” Hidan couldn’t resist adding, simply for the thrill of pissing Nagato off even further.

“Because I care about the local area. Consider it community service,” Konan stared down her nose at him.

“Why were you in a pub?” repeated Nagato.

“After work drinks. Socialising. Networking,” replied Konan.

“You could have warned me,” muttered Nagato.

“It was a last minute thing, and I thought it would be rude to pull out my phone,” replied Konan.

Left with little else to say, Nagato stared down at the table, his bony elbows jutting out as they rested against the grey wood. Hidan couldn’t bear the awkward silence that filled the room, suffocating them all, so he looked around, desperately trying to think of something else to say.

“I like your house,” Hidan announced. “Really…pared back. Minimalistic. It’s nice.”

“Thank you,” replied Konan.

“The sofas are really comfy,” added Hidan.

“Are you used to sleeping on sofas?” asked Nagato.

“No, I’m more used to sleeping in beds,” answered Hidan. He gave Nagato a smug grin. “Although…not always my own.”

Nagato shook his head with disgust. Konan simply rolled her eyes.

“Drink your coffee,” ordered Konan, as she readjusted the pink silk dressing gown around herself. “I need to get ready for work.”

“On a Saturday?” asked Hidan.

“Yes, a Saturday. I take most of my trade today,” replied Konan, running her hands through her tousled blue hair, easing out any knots. “You should think about making a move.”

“Kakuzu won’t let me in,” protested Hidan.

“Then you’d better think of a way to appease him,” Konan turned at her heel, before tilting her head back to face Hidan. “If you want to use the bathroom to freshen up, it’s at the top of the stairs. My room is next door.”

“I will,” promised Hidan. As Konan left, he raised his mug to Nagato and took a deep sip. Nagato watched furiously as Hidan bounced out the room, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. Konan had left her door ajar; out of habit, Hidan supposed, as he doubted that Nagato would be able to climb the stairs. He busied himself by entering the bathroom and splashing cold water over his face, but then realised that his hair had become dishevelled.

He stuck his head under the shower and scrubbed out the old gel with a small blob of Konan’s shampoo. He hoped she wouldn’t mind too much. He opened one of the cupboards to look for some fresh hair gel, but found none. He was about to close the cupboard, but curiosity quickly gained the upper hand. His fingers gently perused through Konan’s toiletries, desperately trying not to make too much noise and attract her suspicion. There were some tweezers, wax strips and a pot of red-orange nail varnish that matched the colour on her fingers and toes. Realising he’d been in there long enough, he set his hair back with a can of hairspray instead.

Emerging from the bathroom, through the crack of Konan’s half-open door, he couldn’t help but notice that Konan stood with her back to him, trying to zip the back of her skirt up. But the zip pulled and tugged against her hips, and Konan grew stuck with her hands behind her back.

“Would you be so kind?” she wondered aloud.

Hidan stopped, stunned that she realised he was directly outside and that he was…well, watching. He stepped forwards, glancing around at her room. His hands reached forwards, and took her skirt from her. The flimsy black material slipped between his hands. Hidan nearly dropped it, but caught it in time, holding it in place where Konan wanted it to go. He could hear her breath, hitching as she sucked her stomach in, and as his head bent down to concentrate on the zip, smell her fresh floral scent. Being so close to her made him feel like he was being drawn in by a spell, and one that he didn’t want to break. Slowly, he worked the zip over the stuck part, marvelling at the way the skirt hugged her hips and waist. He wondered if he reached out and wrapped his hands around her waist at how far they would reach, how the curve of her hips would feel under his palms.

“Thank you,” said Konan, stepping away from him and breaking the spell. “Did you find everything you need?”

“Yes.”

_And much more._

“Then we’d best be off,” Konan bent down, and slipped on a pair of ankle boots. She reached for her leather jacket and handbag, and guided him out of her room before Hidan could take a closer look at her surroundings.

Downstairs, he pulled on yesterday’s work clothes, sniffing distastefully as he did so. He would have rather worn something fresh, but the last thing he wanted to do was ask Nagato to borrow anything. Nagato had wheeled himself into the living room and switched on the television. In one hand, he flicked through his iPad, as he huddled inside his dressing gown.

“Do you have everything you need?” asked Konan.

“Leftovers are in the fridge, I suppose,” he sniffed.

“I’ll be home after four, I hope,” said Konan.

“You better,” Nagato muttered to himself.

“What did you say?” demanded Hidan.

“Mind your own business,” scorned Nagato.

Hidan fought the urge to grab Nagato by the front of his dressing gown and give him a piece of his mind, along with a few curse words chucked in for good measure. But he held himself firmly, and instead stared down his nose at him. “You have no right to talk to your sister like that.”

“Come on,” Konan grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out.

“What a douchebag!” Hidan complained loudly, as soon as Konan shut the front door behind them both. “Why are you putting up with that crap?” 

“I’m his carer,” explained Konan, as she marched him down the street.

“And?!” Hidan demanded. “The way he talks to you makes me sick!”

“He’s miserable and lonely,” Konan added.

“So tell him to go out and make some fucking friends.”

“He can’t go out. He’s housebound.”

“Why? He’s not…hooked up to wires or anything,” scoffed Hidan, as they crossed the road.

“Hidan,” scolded Konan, looking back and forth for any passing cars. “He’s paralysed from the waist down. He has a wheelchair, but I have to push him. He doesn’t have the upper body strength to move himself for long distances. I did look at getting him a powerchair, but they’re so expensive.”

They stepped up onto the next pavement. Hidan turned back to Konan. “Surely the hospital would give him-”

“The hospital gave us the chair he has.”

“Fundraise,” suggested Hidan.

“Nagato doesn’t want to ask people for money. It’s a pride thing,” Konan explained.

“He can’t sit in a house all day, it’s not good for him. And it’s not fair for him to expect you to give up your social life to entertain him,” Hidan argued back. “He’s not exactly a fun person to talk to anyway.”

“Hidan,” Konan scolded again. “Have you no idea what he goes through every day?”

“Don’t tell me you have to take him to toilet and put him in the bath,” groaned Hidan.

Konan glared at him.

Hidan made a retching noise. “Yuck. Tell him to get a male carer instead.”

“He doesn’t want people he doesn’t know to touch him,” explained Konan.

“That’s so gross,” Hidan moaned.

“It’s not gross, he needs help,” Konan stopped in the middle of the street, and turned back to Hidan. “This is you, if I remember rightly.”

Hidan realised they had stopped outside his house. The front door was still closed, but Kakuzu’s curtains were open. Kakuzu was definitely awake and probably counting his coppers.

“Yeah it is,” he replied. He took a step forward, and reached out, meaning to place his hands on her shoulders, but instead his fingertips trailed down her arms as she eluded him. “Listen, if you ever fancy another drink sometime-”

“I have to go to work now, Hidan,” Konan held her head up high. “And this evening, Nagato really does need me.”

“When he doesn’t need you-” Hidan began.

“We’ll see,” Konan tilted her head. “I enjoyed your company at the pub last night. Goodbye for now, Hidan.”

“Goodbye,” Hidan hesitated, unsure what the appropriate farewell would be. He debated whether to shake her hand, as a fellow professional who had folded his money for him, or if they had crossed that boundary already. A hug seemed too intimate, a kiss on the cheek seemed too forward.

Konan reached up and pecked her lips against his cheek. “My shampoo suits you.”

Stunned, Hidan watched her turn away and walk down the street, slipping a pair of headphones into her ears as she went.

“What a woman,” he muttered to himself.

“What woman?” asked Kakuzu, dragging a large black sack behind him to the bin. Hidan realised that Kakuzu had left the front door open, and made a break for it, before Kakuzu could turn back and lock him out again. He slammed it shut, and then laughed as Kakuzu yelled angrily and hammered on the door. 

“It’s your turn now, fucker!” Hidan yelled out the letterbox. “That shit you did was illegal!”

* * *

After dressing himself in fresh clothes, and tipping some cereal in a bowl with milk, Hidan perched on his sofa listening to Kakuzu’s furious banging against the window. Somehow the noise seemed cathartic as he munched away and slurped the milk. He scrolled through his phone, catching up on the world.

Bored, he found Deidara’s number and then fired off a quick text.

_You busy today blondie? X_

Within a minute, his phone pinged with a response.

 _No why?_  
_Stop putting kisses it’s weird!_

Hidan grinned.

 _Fancy going out for a drive? I’ve locked Kakuzu out and feel like leaving him to scream into the void._  
_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

His phone pinged again.

_You are so weird. But yeah ok lets go for a drive, I have an idea_

Hidan fired off another message.

_Meet me outside yours, I’m going to go and get the car x_

He stood upright, and stretched, before heading towards the back door. He slipped on his trainers, grabbed his wallet and keys so Kakuzu couldn’t throw him out again, then slipped into the garden. He climbed the garden fence, then landed in the street. He walked down, tapped his car keys, and climbed into his unlocked car.

Before long, he picked Deidara up outside of Deidara’s parents’ house, and they were driving out of town and onto the dual carriageway heading towards the next town over. 

“So, what did you want to do?” asked Deidara, one arm resting on the window pane.

“I don’t know yet,” replied Hidan, catching a glimpse of Deidara in the car mirror. “You?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Deidara announced. Out of his pocket he pulled a condom.

“DEI!” Hidan nearly stalled the car. “You want me to have sex with you on a dual carriageway driving at sixty miles per hour?! You freak!”

“No!” Deidara shouted. “I don’t want to have sex…I just want to do an experiment.”

“What, a sexual one?!”

“No!” Deidara shook his head. “Just…unwind my window and then drive at like seventy, yeah?”

“It’s the national speed limit,” Hidan pointed out.

“Just do it man!”

Hidan unwound Deidara’s window for him. Deidara opened his phone, placed it on the windscreen with the camera filming. He unwrapped the condom and then rolled it out. He shifted in his seat, sitting upright so that he could lean out the window. Hidan shook his head bemused, as with two hands, Deidara held the condom out of the window to the wind.

“You are so weird,” Hidan shook his head. “What are you even trying to do?”

“Come on!” growled Deidara. “Come on!”

Within a few moments, the condom filled with air and started fluttering in the wind.

“Is that it?” asked Hidan.

“No!” Deidara retorted. He held the condom further out of the window, and so more air rushed in. The condom stretched open by a few more centimetres. “Go faster!”

Hidan glanced in his wing mirrors, before moving to the overtaking lane. He pressed on the accelerator. The condom finally expanded to the size of a small wind turbine.

“Yes!” shrieked Deidara. “Woohoo! Look at the size of that, yeah!”

“You’re an idiot!”

“Says you!”

The condom danced in the air as Deidara held it out with both hands. Deidara howled with laughter as Hidan stamped on the accelerator, sneaking closer to seventy miles per hour. Eventually, the condom snapped, and Deidara pulled the rubber remains inside.

“Happy?” asked Hidan.

“Yeah! Hm!” Deidara snickered. He grabbed his phone, stopped the recording and then turned to face his friend. “So, why did you want to meet up today?”

Hidan swallowed, but then leapt straight to the point. “You know the origamist, right?”

“Of course I do, Sasori gave you her business card,” replied Deidara, tapping away as he uploaded the video to Facebook.

“Well, what do you know about her?” asked Hidan.

“What do I know about her?” repeated Deidara.

“That’s right,” confirmed Hidan.

Deidara nibbled his lower lip. “Well…she runs origami classes on a Thursday night at the local community centre…”

“Fucking yes,” Hidan grinned to himself.

“Why? Do you want to start learning origami?”

“Sure,” Hidan nodded, staring ahead at the car in front of them. “Is it fun?”

“It’s not my favourite art but she makes it fun,” explained Deidara. “And Sasori goes too.”

“I’ll tag along with you two then,” said Hidan. “But what about her? How long have you known her?”

“A few years, when I started on the local art scene,” replied Deidara. “She’s been there longer than I have. She’s about Sasori’s age actually.”

“Sasori’s age? You mean like twelve?” scoffed Hidan.

“No, more like thirty five,” replied Deidara. “But you’re right, Sasori definitely looks like a twelve year old. I’m going to tell him that next time I see him.”

“She’s thirty five?!” Hidan gaped. The car jolted as they rode over a pothole.

“Yeah,” said Deidara.

“No fucking way!” protested Hidan. “She’s too hot to be thirty five!”

“Too hot? Too hot?” Deidara repeated. He shifted in his seat to turn around and face Hidan, giving an impish grin. “You mean you like her?”

“No!” Hidan barked. “No. She’s cold and mean.”

“Oh suuuure,” Deidara teased. “She’s single, you know.”

“I worked that out,” Hidan replied. “Her husband is in an urn on top of the mantelpiece.”

“Eww, really? And I thought Sasori keeping an embalmed cat was weird,” Deidara shuddered. “I did wonder about the wedding band when they went on a date-”

The car lurched as Hidan jumped in his seat and lifted off the accelerator and then pressed back down on it again. “She went on a date with Sasori?!”

“Just a platonic thing!” explained Deidara. “They go to museums and art galleries. Sometimes they take me too. But they often go out to dinner. Sasori’s asexual, so literally nothing happened.”

“Good.”

“What’s good?” frowned Deidara.

“Eh. Nothing,” dismissed Hidan. “What else do you know?”

“She stops by Itachi’s café for dinner most evenings if she’s got a class or a small business committee meeting,” replied Deidara.

“Even better,” grinned Hidan. He stopped grinning, and then took on a more serious expression. “Has she ever introduced you to…anyone called Nagato?”

“Oh, the guy she lives with?” Deidara’s eyes flicked over to meet Hidan’s. “He’s quite reclusive, I’ve only seen him once.”

“Where’d you see him?”

“At Itachi’s.”

“What happened?”

Deidara shrugged. “I don’t know, it was the same day Itachi threw me out after I asked if the reason his dad looked so miserable was because his mum was going through the menopause.”

“Oh Dei!” Hidan chortled. “I bet he was fuming.”

Deidara’s expression darkened. “I genuinely thought Sasuke was going to strangle me.”

“You should be more respectful to Itachi. He can be scary when he wants to be.”

“Says you who made Japanese stereotypes at him!”

“Can we get back to what we were talking about?” Hidan protested. “Nagato. What did you notice?”

“Err…he’s got red hair?” asked Deidara.

“Other than that. Like the things he was saying. What he was doing,” interrogated Hidan.

“He was drinking tea,” replied Deidara. “And he was being all moody and brooding. Oh and he was in a wheelchair. Konan doesn’t mention him much but she says that he doesn’t like going out very often. Apparently none of the shops have ramps or enough space for his chair.”

“I see,” mused Hidan.

“She worries about leaving him all the time, but at the same time, she never seems to want to be at home. She’s always out doing something, whether it’s running a class, attending a small business committee meeting, attending an art fair,” explained Deidara.

“Figures,” stated Hidan. Everything that he had seen and observed matched up with the information that Deidara so freely threw away in conversation. “So, would you agree that a lonely yet lovely widow like Konan could use a nice young man like myself to cheer her up?”

Deidara practically choked with laughter. “Ha! You? Nice young man? I think that’s the best joke I’ve heard all day.”

“Shut up blondie, or you’ll go bang out the window like your condom did.”

“Well, I’m being serious now,” Deidara replied. “Konan is way, way out of your league. She’s like, a queen, and you’re like, a peasant. She’s miles above you. I wouldn’t even bother.”

“You know, now you say that, that makes me all the more determined,” Hidan replied, as he signalled to come off the dual carriageway.

“No, seriously! Your best bet is to…” Deidara trailed off, before realising he didn’t know who else would make a suitable romantic interest for Hidan. “…er, change your whole personality so people stop running away screaming and you can meet someone more…average?”

“Like that’s going to happen,” scorned Hidan, slowing the car to enter the town. “Why don’t you change yours?”

“Oi, there’s nothing wrong with me!” protested Deidara.

“Oh really?” taunted Hidan. “How come I’ve never seen you with any girl? Something you want to tell me?”

“Shut up you prick!” Deidara shoved Hidan. The car jerked sideways as Hidan inadvertedly turned the steering wheel.

“I’m driving, you fucking moron!” Hidan yelled back. “I’ll shove you out the car in a minute!”

“Like hell you will!”

“I’ll do it! I’ll leave you here and then you can take the bus or the train home!”

Hidan pulled over beside the curb, and then stopped the car. He unclipped Deidara’s seatbelt, leant over, opened the door, before giving Deidara a good shove.

“Hey!” Deidara squealed, and grabbed hold of Hidan to keep himself from falling. “Hey! I was joking! I’ll tell you what Konan’s favourite flowers are! And her favourite restaurant!”

That sounded promising. Hidan stopped shoving and sat back in the driver’s seat. Deidara sat back upright, closed the car door and then put his belt back on.

“You are such a dick,” Deidara pouted.

“Says you,” Hidan countered. They both sat sulking in silence for several minutes, before Hidan shifted in his seat. He glanced over at Deidara, who pouted his lower lip. Strands of his blond fringe stuck to Deidara’s protruding lower lip, and he had flushed red. He looked so silly that Hidan had a hard time trying not to laugh at him and make the situation even worse. “Say…blondie…fancy going and getting an ice cream? As it’s the weekend.”

“Yeah,” agreed Deidara.

Hidan pressed down on the clutch, and then switched the ignition back on. He checked back and forth, before pulling off. He and Deidara drove in silence for another five minutes, then swung through the drive-thru of McDonald’s to get McFlurries. They sat in the car park eating in silence, before they both burst out laughing.

“So, Dei,” asked Hidan. “What are Konan’s favourite flowers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, my aunt keeps my granny's ashes in her living room and it's the grossest thing ever, I hate it so much. I figured Nagato would want to do something very similar with Yahiko in a modern au. I also figured that Hidan would find it very disrespectful as his personal beliefs are to honour the dead and carry out their last wishes as part of his job.
> 
> do you think Hidan has a chance with Konan? was Deidara's love advice very...helpful? XD


	4. Death and Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life returns to normal for Konan after she says goodbye to Hidan. But will they see each other again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another big thank you for all the super lovely comments on the last chapter! this really encourages me to write more guys XD  
> in this chapter, we find out a bit more about Konan's love life, her tastes and loneliness. And she fantasises about dominating Hidan in the supermarket. Best place to fantasise right?  
> Hidan shows off his gentler&empathetic side, and Konan gets to know a bit more about what he does for work.

Sunday morning dawned, and found Konan clearing the dinner plates from last night’s meal. Nagato was sleeping in late, as he usually tended to do on a Sunday morning. Konan took him a cup of coffee in bed, and helped him to prop himself upright with a variety of different support pillows. Nagato had a low bed and several support rails so that he could use his arms to move himself from his wheelchair to his bed and back again without Konan’s help on a good day.

“I’m going out shopping later,” asked Konan, perching on the edge of Nagato’s bed and brushing limp red hair away from his forehead so that he could see her. “Is there anything you want?”

“I can’t think of anything,” shrugged Nagato, pushing her hand away.

“Do you want to come?” asked Konan.

“No.”

“Some fresh air would be good for you,” Konan climbed up, and pulled back his curtains. Nagato blinked, and then shivered as she opened the window to allow a breeze to play around the room.

“I don’t like the supermarket. It will be packed and I won’t be able to move my chair around,” Nagato folded his arms. “I’m not going.”

“You haven’t been out in over a week,” Konan folded her arms, copying his stature. “I worry about you, Nagato, you can’t stay locked in here for weeks on end. I think you should go out. If you don’t want to go to the supermarket, then I’ll take you down to the hut with me tomorrow.”

In all honesty, Konan preferred not to take Nagato to the hut as she viewed it as ‘her’ hut, and therefore her respite from him, but as she looked at Nagato’s hastily greying face, she knew he needed to get out.

“I’ll come to the supermarket,” Nagato sulked. “And I’ll deal with people moving my chair out the way and huffing at me the whole way round.”

“And I’ll kick them with my heels if they try, and huff straight back,” replied Konan, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m going to get dressed. Call me if you need any help.”

Upstairs, Konan sighed deeply, already feeling exhausted. She pulled on a black lace underwear set, and then a black bodysuit. For taking Nagato around the shops, she selected a practical pair of dark indigo jeans, and a pair of white and black Vans. After patting on some bb cream and her usual eye makeup, she picked up her jacket and handbag, then went to see if Nagato was dressed yet.

Nagato was sitting in the same position that Konan had left him in.

 _For pity’s sake_. Konan lifted her voice to an upbeat tune. “Need help?”

With Nagato finally dressed in clean clothes that Konan had washed, dried, ironed and folded for him several days ago, Konan wheeled him out the house and then helped him into the passenger seat of her car.

“Why don’t we invite dad over for tea one day?” suggested Konan, as she sat down in the driver’s seat. She switched the ignition, lifted her foot on the clutch until she found the biting point, and then glanced over her shoulder and checked all of her blind spots, before reversing out of the driveway. “He’d love to see us.”

“He’s not our dad,” replied Nagato, as Konan manoeuvred the car into the driving position on the road.

“Well, who was he then?” asked Konan, pressing on the accelerator with her right foot. She slipped the car into second gear, and then into third.

“Our former foster carer.”

“Why don’t we invite our former foster carer over for tea one day?” Konan suggested again, this time emphasizing former foster carer loudly, and brightening her tone to watch Nagato squirm in the centre mirror. “He’d love to see us.”

“I don’t want to see him,” replied Nagato.

“Suit yourself,” replied Konan. She glanced out the window of the car at the train station, to check for any oncoming traffic from the car park, but there was none. Instead, there was a glistening, heaving train sitting at one of the platforms. Konan could see the heat waves dappling in the sun, could see all the different people perched at their seats, and imagined what it would feel like to simply drop absolutely everything, step onto the train, and be whisked away somewhere else. Somewhere entirely new where no one knew who she was. She could start again and create a fresh new persona. Everyone would wonder who this new mysterious woman was, who could make such exotic creations from blank sheets of paper, and where she had come from.

But then there would be no one to take care of Nagato.

And Konan imagined him wasting away, sitting inside in the dark, unable to move himself. She imagined him hungry, cold, growing sicker and sicker. And for god’s sake, _she could not leave him_.

Her eyes turned back onto the road ahead of her, and soon they were at the supermarket. Konan parked in the disabled bay, and helped Nagato into his chair. Nagato glanced around warily at the passers-by who gave them glances. She wheeled him to fetch the disabled trolley to attach to his chair, only to find it chained up at the back and trapped back behind all the other trolleys where neither of them could reach it.

Konan knew too well that it would be a waste of time to fetch the supermarket assistants who were just teenage kids trying to earn some pocket money and probably weren’t responsible and probably wouldn’t know what to do anyway.

“Oh brilliant,” muttered Nagato sarcastically.

“We’ll get a basket,” said Konan.

“It won’t fit our stuff,” complained Nagato.

“You can have one on your lap and I’ll carry one.”

Konan grabbed two baskets, laid one on Nagato’s lap and carried the other on her elbow as she pushed him along.

“See? This is fine,” Konan tossed a packet of asparagus and long-stem broccoli into her basket.

Out of the corner of her eye, a trolley moved at the end of the aisle, hastily away from the vegetable aisle.

Konan selected several more vegetables to cook into meals, and then some fruit. She picked up some pre-prepared vegetables that Nagato would find easier to cook with, before moving to the meat and fish aisles. Both she and Nagato liked fish, and so she browsed through the aisles.

Honestly, Konan preferred to buy fresh fish from Kisame, as a small local business supporting another, but buying it here would save time and allow her to have something ready for Nagato sooner. She placed a few packets in her basket, and then wheeled Nagato into the next aisle. In this aisle, several kids screeched and ran like wild animals down the aisle, whizzing past the chair. Warily, Nagato shifted, unable to move away from them.

“You stay here,” said Konan, wheeling him backwards and then parking him back in a quiet part of the aisle they’d just left. “I’ll get what we need and come back for you.”

Konan wandered ahead, her palms red and sweaty from the effort of pushing Nagato and an increasingly heavy basket. She picked up a chicken, to make roast dinner, and then wandered further along the aisle.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a flicker of silver. Turning, she realised it was Hidan, loading up his trolley with steak after steak. There were no vegetables in sight in his trolley. Konan immediately thought of a clever comment, that maybe she could purr in his ear and make him blush at the unexpected surprise.

But then Konan remembered Nagato, and remembered that now was not the time. She turned and slipped away back into the aisle where she’d left Nagato. They picked up some fresh milk, some yoghurts, a new tub of butter, several cereal snack bars and convenience food so Nagato would have plenty to snack on without having to worry about preparation.

Nagato’s grey-white wispy hands rested on top of the basket as he held it on his lap. He looked as though he scarcely had the strength to even hold onto it. They were so different to her small, artist’s hands. Though her fingers were long and elegant, and according to Sasori, looked incredibly aesthetically pleasing when folding her origami.

Hidan’s hands were nice. Konan couldn’t help but remember the feel of them yesterday when she asked him to zip her skirt up. Originally, it had been with the intention of winding him up, taunting him, since he’d been peeking through the door and for his insolent comments about Yahiko and Nagato. And rummaging in her bathroom cabinet. Konan wasn’t stupid. She knew all the sounds in her house.

It wasn’t that she simply wanted him to have his way with her. That was not going to happen. Konan wanted to tell him what to do, make him do exactly as she said. He wouldn’t understand. Or would he? Not many men did. This Hidan was boisterous, arrogant, even. Would he allow himself to lie back and submit to a queen?

 _Probably not_ , Konan thought to herself, gazing at a packet of chocolate digestives. Nagato stirred restlessly, and so Konan pushed him along to look at rich tea biscuits instead.

It was easier to be with women in that regard. They weren’t afraid of her, or the queen inside of her, that she knew she was. Nagato seemed less threatened by them, so she could keep them as lovers for a little longer. But then he grew paranoid, as he always did.

Konan left Hidan further away in the supermarket, as she perused through the supermarket. Yahiko hadn’t been afraid of her. They’d been young – young and eager and in love. And yet they’d never truly explored their full identities with each other. That was the saddest thing about being a widow, Konan thought. The lost potential.

* * *

That evening, Konan prepared a roast dinner that she knew Nagato would like. Several stews sat bubbling in slow cookers around the room. They would be ladled into Tupperware pots, and then either stored in the fridge or the freezer depending on which ones Nagato wanted to eat first.

Konan talked to the air as Nagato brooded sitting hunched over the table. He did it to her, so why didn’t she do it to him? She spoke about her week, her classes, her students, subtly annoying him with her bright descriptions of her artistic life. Yet somehow, even as she spoke, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

Because to look at him would make it feel too real. That they were here, together, as a pair and not a three. And the look in Nagato’s eyes. Konan knew what he thought. She knew exactly what he thought.

It was too painful.

Nagato played with his food.

“Eat it,” urged Konan. She reached across the table and took his bony hand in hers. It felt like a claw. “You’re wasting away.”

She had, unbeknownst to Nagato, added starch and fattening agents to the roast potatoes and the gravy.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You must be, you’re barely eaten all day,” fussed Konan.

“I said I’m not hungry,” Nagato snapped, and snatched his hand away.

Konan bent her head over her plate, her face burning with shame.

_Why do I even bother?_

As the evening grew later, Konan longed to leave Nagato downstairs on his own and sit away from his glares in the sanctity of her bedroom. Folding and folding her paper, until the pain ached no longer. She made her excuses at half past nine, saying that she was tired and wanted an early night before getting up early on Monday. Nagato barely acknowledged her. Konan left him to get himself ready for bed.

Monday morning found Konan folding peacefully away at her hut. She rarely received any customers on a Monday, and if she was honest, she didn’t need to open up at all. This morning, she was creating several display sets of origami for an event. Along with ornaments, Konan provided origami flowers for events, mainly for artistic types or people looking to make their weddings a little different, or people who wanted flowers that would last forever, ones that wouldn’t wither away.

Today, she was making flowers for a funeral. Lily after lily was folded within seconds, then threaded into a bouquet. Displays and wreaths of paper flowers grew over the floor. Konan lost herself to the rhythm, the soothing rhythm of paper scrapping together, forming, taking shape.

And then it was all done. Konan looked at the display before, and felt as though a kind of energy had been taken from her, but then it filled her with a sense of achievement, a sense of hope.

She stacked the paper flowers neatly on top of the counter, and started to price them all up. The customer had requested that she take the flowers to the funeral home and help the embalmers arrange them with the coffin. Until then, she would have to store them here.

There were no excuses to stay out on a Monday night, and so Konan walked back. They ate a stew she had left in the slow cooker, and then Konan helped Nagato undress, wash himself, and then prepare for bed. She helped him under the duvet and tucked him in, before undressing and going to bed herself.

Sitting upright in bed, Konan flicked through Facebook, before spotting an upload from Deidara. She clicked on the video, and it began to play. She could see Deidara sitting in the passenger seat of a car, before shifting to hold a condom out of the window, and then Hidan’s voice rang out.

_‘You are so weird. What are you even trying to do?’_

_‘Come on. Come on!’_

Onscreen, the condom filled with air and began to flutter in the air. Hidan’s voice rang out again.

_‘Is that it?’_

_‘No! Go faster!’_

The next thing Konan knew, the condom was the size of a small wind turbine. Deidara shrieked with laughter and joy. She shook her head, almost fondly. So, Hidan and Deidara were friends, it appeared.

Tuesday dawned, Konan folded, Nagato moped, and Tuesday fell to dusk. And then on Wednesday morning, Konan drove her car down to the car park beside the huts, and began to load up. She typed the instructions into her satnav, and then followed them to the funeral home. The drive was quiet, unassuming, until she arrived.

“I’m the origamist. I’ve brought the flowers for the ceremony this morning,” Konan announced at reception, clutching several wreaths and bouquets of origami flowers in her arms at once.

“Do you need a man to help?” asked the receptionist.

Konan wrinkled her nose. “No thank you.”

“It’s no problem, I’ll go get our marketing boy,” the receptionist replied. She turned to a flight of stairs, and then shouted. “HIDAN!”

 _Of course_ , Konan thought to herself.

There was a scramble, as a door upstairs dragged open, and then Hidan emerged down the stairs wearing a work suit and tie. As soon as he saw her, Konan watched his mouth go dry and his eyes go soft. It was almost adorable.

“Help the lady with her wreaths,” instructed the receptionist, already settling behind her counter and typing away at her computer.

Hidan walked towards Konan, accepting the wreath that she handed to him.

“I didn’t know you did funerals,” he stated simply.

“I do all kinds of occasions,” replied Konan.

“These are…” Hidan trailed his fingers across the folds of the flowers. “Really beautiful.”

“Thank you,” said Konan. “Where should I take them?”

“Can I take a picture of these?” asked Hidan. “We’ve never had a funeral where origami is used before…I think it would look nice on Instagram and bring you a bit of awareness too. What do you say?”

“Have you asked the family of the deceased?” asked Konan.

“Yes, we always do before we begin planning the ceremony,” Hidan reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “If you just hold one of them up, I’ll photo it. Stand more to the light, like that.”

Konan stepped into the sunlight glowing from a window, and watched it catch an illuminated pattern of light and shadow across her wreath. Hidan snapped a picture, and then picked the wreaths back up. They laid them with the coffin, waiting to be drawn to the funeral procession. Konan noticed that Hidan respectfully lowered his head and eyes to the deceased, and followed suite.

“Do you want a cup of tea?” asked Hidan.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s ok,” said Hidan. “I’ve seen where you work. Let me show you around.”

He held out a hand, and offered it to her. Konan accepted, and then he guided her up the stairs to his office.

Hidan worked alone in his office. He had a window with a view over the crematorium grounds, a desk with a Macbook, a diary spread open on the desk, and then Konan noticed one of her money origami rats sitting just beside the computer screen. She wondered why he’d kept that when it had been intended as a gift for Kakuzu. Konan couldn’t resist smiling to herself.

“Why are you laughing?” demanded Hidan, moving his jacket from a spare chair so that she could sit down.

“I’m not.”

“You’re smiling,” Hidan grinned.

“I wonder why you kept one of the rats,” admitted Konan.

“Spare change,” replied Hidan.

“Of course it is.”

A blush spread across Hidan’s cheeks. He turned his head, looking back out into the direction of a communal kitchen. “How do you like your tea?”

“One sugar, with milk,” replied Konan.

“Sit down, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Konan sat down on the spare seat, crossing one leg over the other, and then listened as the kettle flicked on and began to gurgle. She heard two mugs clang on the kitchen counter, Hidan shuffling, the sounds of jars opening and closing. Teaspoons clattered against the mugs, and then the kettle flicked off.

Hidan re-emerged, and handed her one of the mugs. Konan accepted, and then watched him sit opposite her. It was strange, a reversal of their situation.

“What were you working on?” asked Konan, gesturing to the open computer screen.

“Website maintenance,” Hidan explained. “I’m updating some information about the type of coffins that we have…painful stuff, but it happens. It’s a part of life. It’s painful trying to arrange a funeral, so with my work, I hope I can take a little of that pain away.”

“I see,” Konan played with her lip piercing. “Are there ever any times that you find it…too painful?”

“Normally when it’s kids,” admitted Hidan. He ran a hand through his hair. “Man, I don’t even like kids that much, but…they haven’t really done anything wrong in the world, have they?”

“No,” Konan shook her head. “How do you have to…be?”

“Calm, sensitive, always.”

“I can’t ever imagine you…” Konan trailed off.

“Then maybe you should listen to me talk to a client,” replied Hidan. He glanced at the clock. “We have a little while until the service, if you want to stay.”

“No, I shouldn’t intrude on their business,” Konan shook her head. She glanced at her half-drunk tea. “Maybe I should think about getting back to the hut.”

“I think the family would like to thank you for the origami,” said Hidan.

Konan glanced at the clock. She rarely received any business on a Wednesday morning anyway, and she’d already warned of a closure on her Instagram and Facebook accounts. Staying closed a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

“All right,” agreed Konan. She slid her feet free from her ankle boots, and then rested them on Hidan’s chair, slouching back a little. He looked a little surprised by her gesture, then copied, kicking off his shoes and propping his feet up on the edge of her chair. Their legs sat pressed together. Hidan grinned shyly at her. Konan wondered if he’d dated many girls before. Maybe he had, but maybe he hadn’t spent a lot of time with an actual woman. She poked him with her toe. “So. What do you want to talk about?”

“Those ashes in your house,” Hidan stated abruptly. “You need to get rid of them.”

Konan frowned. “I’m not getting rid of them.”

“Konan, you have to. They can’t stay there. It’s not right,” Hidan shook his head and lowered his voice. “While we’re here…why don’t we have a look around and find somewhere to put them? There’s a rose garden where some families like to scatter their loved ones. I’ll talk to my supervisor, he’ll be happy to-”

“No,” barked Konan. She abruptly removed her feet from his chair. Hidan looked saddened at the loss of her contact. “Yahiko stays where he is. We need him.”

“We?” asked Hidan.

“Nagato and I,” explained Konan.

“Nagato?”

“Nagato was his best friend,” replied Konan.

“Right,” said Hidan.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” declared Konan. She crossed her legs again, but kept her shoes off.

Hidan almost looked relieved that the moment had passed, but disappointed all the same. “Then what do you want to talk about instead?”

“How about you?” suggested Konan.

“What do you want to know?” asked Hidan.

Konan sat up, and reached across, gently touching the little triangle of porcelain fair skin below his open shirt and loosened tie. Her painted fingers trailed down the silver chain, before touching the silver pendent. “What’s this all about?”

Hidan looked absolutely delighted.

“This is my religion,” he explained, pulling out the pendent from underneath his shirt to show her. Konan saw an inverted triangle enclosed inside of a triangle, that was the size of a two pound coin. “It’s the symbol for Jashinism.”

“Which is?” asked Konan.

“It’s a faith,” replied Hidan.

“I didn’t know you were God Squad.”

“Not _that_ God Squad,” Hidan wrinkled his nose. “I’m not all about spreading love and kindness.”

“Is this an obscure branch of Satanism?” asked Konan.

“No, it’s a religion in its own right,” retorted Hidan.

“What does it teach?”

“It teaches us to share pain,” replied Hidan. “In the olden days, it was about destruction and slaughter, but nowadays, it’s about understanding pain, sharing pain, connecting through pain – why are you smiling like that?”

“Nagato’s online persona is called Pain,” explained Konan.

“His what?”

“He has a law degree and he used to work as a barrister,” Konan explained. “But he can’t go out to work anymore, so he works from home offering legal advice and uses a pseudonym. Pain. Because he’s always in pain unless he’s hooked up to tramadol.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about Nagato,” stated Hidan.

“I don’t,” admitted Konan.

They stared at one another, suddenly overwhelmed by the freedom to spend time with one another and discuss whatever they pleased.

“What do you believe in?” asked Hidan. “Are you…Christian? Jewish?”

“Neither of those. I don’t really belong to any kind of organised religion. But I believe in individuals making a difference and making change. I believe in tolerance.”

“You’re a humanist?”

“Is that what I’m supposed to be?”

“From what you describe, yes,” Hidan nodded. “Most people here tend to be humanist.”

“Does it feel weird, helping people to have humanist ceremonies even when you’re a Jashinist?”

“Not at all,” explained Hidan. “You see, everyone deserves dignity in death. Just because I may not agree with or understand someone’s faith, doesn’t mean I can't respect it.”

“I see,” Konan nodded, and then uncrossed her legs. She placed her feet back up on Hidan’s chair. This time, Hidan didn’t rest his feet on her chair, but instead placed a warm hand on her ankle, running his thumb in a comforting pattern along the inside of her lower calf. “What fascinates you about so many different religions?”

“I did my undergrad degree in theology.”

“ _You_ studied theology?”

“Yes,” said Hidan. “Why are you laughing?”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to study theology,” Konan shook her head. “Maybe a marketing degree. How did you end up here if you studied theology?”

“I couldn’t find any jobs relating to theology that I really wanted to do. And then this came up, and I’ve never been afraid of death, and they wanted a graduate…Kakuzu says it’s because they wanted someone could pay relatively low because it’s a smaller business, but someone who’d be good with tech and basically running the show. And I’ve always been good at picking up things I do regularly, like Instagram. So,” Hidan shrugged. “Here I am.”

At the funeral, raw grief permeated the air. Yet there was beauty too, in Konan’s paper bouquets and wreaths as they decorated the coffin and the room. There was healing, a sense of goodbye, and closure.

Yahiko’s funeral had been different. If Konan was completely honest, she didn’t like to think of it very often. She didn’t like to remember that year of her life either. Especially not the smell of her unwashed dressing gown and bedsheets as she shuffled from her bed to the kitchen and bathroom, and then back again. The endless cups of coffee because it was the only thing she could think of to make, the piles of tissues crumpled across the bedsheets and the floor and her bedside table, so that the whole room looked like Tracey Emin’s ‘My Bed’ exhibit. The irregular meals of porridge, pasta and whatever else was left in the cupboard or that Jiraiya brought for her. The red tear tracks on her cheeks, her endlessly sore red nose, the corners of her mouth that cracked and bled where she silently screamed wails of anguish.

It was Nagato who snapped her out of it. Nagato who needed support and caring for, who needed to be given painkillers around the clock, lifted, washed, dressed, fed and carried from room to room. Nagato gave her a routine, a purpose, and slowly, Konan built herself back together.

_Or had she?_

Konan watched respectfully from the back of the room with Hidan. Her arm sat tucked inside of his for most of the ceremony, and at the end of the day, the family of the deceased approached them, murmuring thanks to Hidan for his respectful and polite manner in how he had described the ceremony when talking to him online. Then they turned to Konan, thanking her for the beautiful art, for making the funeral unique. Afterwards, Hidan walked her back to her car, and then they stood beside it, facing one another.

“Thank you for today. It was what I needed to see,” admitted Konan.

“Thanks for coming. I think they had a good send-off,” replied Hidan. “And the family appreciated the art.”

“I’m pleased.”

“If you ever want to collaborate between my company and yours…” trailed off Hidan.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll consider it,” said Konan. She reached forwards and played with the edge of his black tie. “You’re very good at your job. Very…empathetic. You surprised me.”

A wide boyish smile spread across Hidan’s lips. “Thanks, I…um…I already think you’re good at yours.”

They both waited, seemingly unsure of how to say goodbye. A handshake seemed too formal, a hug too platonic, a kiss on the cheek, perhaps, like they had on Saturday?

But after today, now it felt like too much had passed between them for a kiss on the cheek to be sufficient. Even for Hidan’s assumptions, his abrasiveness, Konan felt a kindred spirit lingering before her, someone who, even if he didn't completely understand, made an attempt to be on her level.

And for that very reason, she decided she would make the first move. She took a step forwards, closing the gap. She reached up, pecking a small dry kiss on Hidan’s lips. It was a simple chaste kiss, and yet Konan felt Hidan’s lips widen in a smile below hers, before gently puckering and kissing her back. His hands settled on her waist, just like when he had zipped up her skirt on Saturday.

Konan squirmed free. “I’ll see you around. You know where to find me.”

His expression looked like that of a disappointed child. Konan wanted to roll her eyes and laugh at him, as if he expected her to practically begin dry-humping him on the boot of her car while parked outside of a funeral home. Like that was ever going to happen.

Maybe she really would have to take him home with her one night, and see how he’d feel with her in charge…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally, I think in a modern au, Hidan would be very respectful to the beliefs' of others particularly as in canon he chides Kakuzu for attacking a temple that isn't even a part of his own religion.
> 
> Anyway, do you think Konan should take Hidan home with her and show him who's in charge?


	5. Kisses and Cuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan pays Konan a visit at one of her origami classes, before returning home, where he conducts a Jashinist ritual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thank you for waiting :)
> 
> as a trigger warning, there is a self-harm scene in this chapter, where Hidan prays to Jashin. this is how i've chosen to adapt his worship of Jashin into this modern au. if anyone finds self-harm triggering, and would like to skip reading it, then it can be found shortly after Hidan leaves Konan, and returns home.
> 
> as well as this, due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress that the scene in which Hidan does self-harm is NOT an endorsement or meant to be any sort of glorification of self-harm in the slightest. my views and feelings on the subject are more in line with Kakuzu's, which he mentions when he helps to clean Hidan up and takes care of him. (although...Kakuzu expresses them in a not-so-very sensitive way, my own views are much more sympathetic!)
> 
> Also, due to my beliefs in gender equality, i also want to stress that if a woman rejects a man and he self-harms, its his own problem, and not the woman's for rejecting him.

On Thursday morning, Hidan could not sit still in his chair at work. The smell of Konan’s perfume still lingered in the air. Every time he turned to look at the spare chair in his office, he half-expected her to be there, sitting with her legs crossed like she was seated in a throne, or reclining back, her ankle boots kicked off on the floor and her feet resting on him. He remembered the light press of her toes against his knees and thighs, and longed for them again.

Hidan’s eyes glazed over, the computer screen no longer making sense. He laid his chin on his palm and remembered the way her legs had parted, and how he’d just managed to catch a glimpse of her stockings below her skirt.

It was beginning to drive him mad.

He paced over to the window, flung it open, hoping to blast the scent of her perfume away. He slumped back in his seat, and tried to focus back on the tweets he was scheduling on Hootsuite. But then he glanced down at the origami rat on his desk, and his thoughts were of Konan again.

He stared out the window, at the car park, and then remembered the kiss in the car park. It was better than the peck on the cheek on Saturday. His lips and the tip of his tongue tingled at the memory. He closed his eyes, remembering the way she felt in his arms, the taste of her mouth, the way her hair tickled his cheek, and the encompassing sensation of her all around him.

Hidan moaned loudly.

“Are you all right in there, Hidan?” called a voice.

“I’m fine!” Hidan lied through gritted teeth.

He wiped the sweat from his brow, then pulled out his phone to try and distract himself. He scrolled down his previous texts, ignoring an angry demand from Kakuzu not to play his music so loudly, and found Deidara’s number.

He fired off a text.

_Hey blondie. What time is origami class? X_

His phone pinged a second later.

_It’s at 7pm and stop putting kisses, its weird!_

Hidan tapped out a response.

_Where shall I meet you first? X_

Deidara’s response pinged.

_Just meet me outside at about five to and we’ll go in together._

Hidan stared at the clock and watched the second hand of the clock drag itself around in a circle. Seven ‘o’ clock couldn’t come fast enough. He turned back to his work, and began to schedule more tweets, Facebook updates, and Instagram posts, checking and scanning for typos as he went.

Briefly, he debated whether his plan to turn up at her origami class was a good one. He wondered what Konan would think about it. She had said to him, _“You know where to find me,”_ and so Hidan assumed that he would be welcome, but what if she got mad at him? Hidan had never folded any paper before, he would be a complete beginner, and it would be so painfully obvious that he had only turned up to see her.

But what if her comment to him yesterday had been an invitation?

Maybe she wanted him there…

There was only one way to find out.

Hidan wished the time would only pass faster.

As soon as he parked his car outside of his and Kakuzu’s place, he practically bolted inside, slamming the door, heading straight for the shower. He scrubbed himself clean, and then emerged, wrapping a towel around his hips. After shoving a readymeal in the microwave, he started to hunt through his wardrobe to find what to wear. If Hidan could, he would walk through the streets shirtless, but that would probably draw negative attention. And tonight, he wanted positive attention. Mainly from Konan.

He pulled out his smartest pair of jeans and then hunted for a decent shirt to wear with it. He didn’t want to wear one of his work shirts…they were too boring and too stiff, and he didn’t want to wear a vest shirt, which seemed too casual, and so he settled for a plain black shirt that he knew hugged his sculpted muscles and went nicely with his silver hair.

He doused himself in deodorant and aftershave, before laying a tea towel over his shirt to eat dinner. Afterwards, he rigorously brushed his teeth, swilled mouthwash around, flossed away any remnants of his dinner and then started to comb his hair back.

At half six, Hidan could barely wait any longer. He thought about heading down then and there, but knew that he would end up waiting outside. He needed to walk in casually with Deidara, like he wasn’t only attending just to see Konan.

He knew she wasn’t going to fall for it, but Hidan could only hope.

Finally, five minutes later, Hidan could take it no longer. He paced out the door, and down the streets towards the community centre where Deidara told him to meet him. He tried to walk slowly, so he wouldn’t arrive ridiculously early, but that was almost impossible.

He arrived ages before Deidara, and perched on one of the bike racks instead, swinging his legs back and forth. He glanced over at the window, realising that Konan was only a few metres away.

“Why are you so early, yeah?” asked Deidara, as both he and Sasori approached Hidan at their leisurely pace.

“Because I didn’t want to be late, Dei-dei,” retorted Hidan. He gestured to Sasori. “And anyway, Sasori doesn’t like late people either.”

“That’s true, I don’t,” said Sasori. “Are we going in?”

“Sure,” Hidan leapt upright, and then followed the two artists.

As soon as he followed them through the door, towards the room that Konan had set up in, his heart fluttered, and began to beat rapidly, but then slowed down again. He instantly felt calm and good about being near Konan.

She watched as she stepped forwards, stooping slightly to greet Sasori with a kiss on either cheek. Hidan instantly felt a stab of envy as he remembered Deidara telling him that they’d been on a date together at some point. Deidara received a hug and then a kiss on the forehead. Hidan stared jealously.

“Hidan,” greeted Konan. She leant up, and pecked her lips against his cheek. “Take a seat.”

Sasori had received two kisses, Deidara had merely been kissed on the forehead but received an additional hug. Although Hidan had only received a single kiss, he was certain that her lips had lingered against his cheek the longest. With that knowledge, Hidan obediently sat down beside Sasori and Deidara, concealing a smug grin. Sasori rolled his eyes, and then nudged Deidara.

Deidara turned to glance at Hidan. “Oh, I underestimated. You’ve got it really bad.”

Anger pricked Hidan.

“You fancy Itachi,” he hissed back.

Deidara flushed pink. “I do not!”

Hidan grinned, realising that he’d hit a nerve. “Oh yeah? Well, why are you always in his teashop?”

“Because I like the food!”

“Oh sure,” Hidan folded his arms smugly. “I’m telling Shisui.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Hey, Shisui, you know that blond guy who looks like a girl who comes in your boyfriend’s teashop? Yeah, well, he’s totally looking at his ass.”

“I have not been looking at Itachi’s ass!” Deidara shouted. There was an awkward silence, as the whole room stared at him, including Konan.

Deidara flushed red.

Hidan snickered, even as Sasori shook his head, unimpressed. But then Konan stared at him disapprovingly, and he glanced back down at the table. There were several sheets of paper on the table, all of them in an even square.

“I think we’ll make a start, now that everyone is here,” Konan spoke loudly and clearly. Hidan stared up, transfixed. Today, she was wearing a blue wrap-around dress with a low-cut V-neck, over a pair of leggings and heeled boots.

He could have happily sat and watched Konan all evening, but he had to look like he was participating in the class. He picked up a piece of paper and tried to fold, copying Konan’s rapid hand movements. Deidara and Sasori completed theirs within minutes, and then laid them on the table smugly. Annoyed, Hidan stared at the crumpled ball of paper.

“Konan, Hidan’s sculpture is absolutely terrible and he really needs some help, yeah!” Deidara sang out across the room.

Hidan kicked him under the table.

“I’m helping you out here! Hm!” Deidara hissed in his ear.

Konan made her way back through the room, and then drew a seat next to Hidan. Hidan hardly dared to breathe as she leant across, taking his crumpled ball of paper from him.

“Is this your first time?” asked Konan sweetly.

Hidan almost wanted to choke.

“It’s all right, it’ll get easier with experience,” Konan smoothed out the paper. “Let’s start again, shall we?”

Konan guided his fingertips through the movements, showing him the folds, until a paper angel laid in Hidan’s hands.

“How was that?” she asked.

Hidan nodded. “It was…good.”

“Do you think you can manage on your own now?” asked Konan.

_NO._

Hidan nodded. “Sure, let me just-” He reached across the table for some paper, but then recoiled. “Paper cut!”

“Oh, that will happen if you’re not careful,” Konan reached for his finger and inspected the cut. Beside him, he was pretty sure that Deidara was crying of laughter. Even Sasori was giggling. Hidan stared as she lifted his finger to her lips, pecking a kiss to the cut. “All better.”

Abruptly she climbed up, and returned to the front of the class to move them onto the next sculpture. Hidan’s cheeks were flushed. He turned back to Deidara, and kicked him again.

“What?” protested Deidara.

“For setting me up!” snarled Hidan.

“You loved it!” Deidara retorted.

Hidan resolved to think of a painful and creative way to kill Deidara later. He even debated killing Sasori too, for sitting there silently and not stopping Deidara. He wriggled in his seat, realising that his jeans were uncomfortably tight against his groin.

 _This is getting ridiculous,_ he thought to himself. His vision had grown blurry, and all he could think about was imagining Konan striding back across the room, ordering everybody out, flinging Hidan onto his back and having her way with him.

She wouldn’t ever do it, he reminded himself. This was her class where she taught her origami, and she was in her element. In her class, she dominated over them all, her expertise completely and utterly unrivalled by anyone. Not even Sasori or Deidara, artists that they were or claimed to be, could even come close. She wouldn’t do anything to him here.

He sat back in his seat, half-heartedly folding and producing a sorry looking shirt.

Deidara turned sideways, and exploded in another fit of giggles.

“I hate you so much, blondie,” Hidan growled under his breath.

Konan moved them onto the third sculpture of the evening. This time Hidan produced a lopsided dress, with a few tears in the paper. He slouched in his seat, listening as Konan gave her parting advice to the class. It was hard to stay miserable for long, as her soothing, calming yet authoritative tone washed over him.

“Hidan, are you coming?” asked Deidara, picking up his bag.

“No, I just want to rest for a bit,” Hidan replied, giving a quick glance under the table, as the class began to pile out. Konan stood on the other side of the room, talking to some regulars.

Sasori and Deidara climbed up, and then lined up to say goodbye to Konan. Konan hugged them both, even ruffling Deidara’s bangs that hung over his eye. Hidan folded his arms, sulking.

Eventually, the room was empty. Konan closed the door, and switched off some of the lights to save electricity. She turned her head sideways.

“Why did you come here, Hidan?” she asked.

“To learn origami.”

A wry smile spread across her features. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hidan lied.

Konan’s smile grew wider, as she closed her trap ever more tightly upon him. “What did you want to learn origami for?”

“To…uhh…” Hidan trailed off. “To make more rats for Kakuzu.”

“Of course you did,” Konan turned around to face him, and made her way towards him through the dim room.

Hidan’s mouth went completely dry, as she settled on the desk in front of him.

“All right, that’s a bit of a lie,” he admitted. For some reason, all of his bravado was gone, and his words came out stammered and awkward. “I…you said…yesterday…that I’d know where to find you. I had to see you again.”

Hidan anxiously awaited her reaction.

Instead, Konan coolly regard him with her amber eyes. “I see.”

“I’m mad for you,” Hidan confessed out loud. “I think you’re a really nice lady. You’re all I can think about. Since last week. It’s driving me crazy. All the time. All day. And I know that…I mean, I think…I know you want me too.”

Those amber eyes pierced through him even in the dark. Hidan wanted to scream, wanted to howl, to beg, to plead, to prostrate himself before her on the floor, if only for her reaction. He wanted to know if she felt it too.

“You’re very sweet,” Konan reached out, and stroked a strand of his silver hair back into place. Hidan almost wanted to cry. Sweetness was not a term that others had used to describe him. _Scary, loud, off-putting, stupid, brash,_ were to name a few. This tenderness was not what he had expected, but it felt so equally good that his heart swelled with joy. He closed his eyes almost blissfully, and then leant into her touch. “You remind me of my husband.”

Hidan opened his eyes, and gazed back up at her. He licked his lips nervously. “Is…is that a good thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” replied Konan. She sat up from the desk, and then went to close the blinds of the room. She fought with the little handle, and then the blinds fell, cutting off the orange glow of the street lamp outside apart from a small stripe at the bottom. Hidan climbed up from the seat, waiting for her to finish. She waited for a moment, before she turned back to face him, her features half darkened and half lit by the illuminating orange stripe. “Is this what you want?”

Hidan nodded eagerly. He took a step towards her, his legs shaking. He could barely feel his feet, he was floating on air.

And then she was in his arms. Her scent overpowered him, but it felt good. He wanted to be over-powered by her. He _wanted_ her to own him completely. His arms wrapped around her waist, roaming over the curves of her body. He lowered his face to meet hers, and then captured her lips. He felt her hands, her dainty long-fingered hands slide up his back, pulling him closer into her embrace. One of her hands settled against the back of his neck, and he even felt her fingers play with a few of the little baby hairs at the nape.

Her body melted against his. Hidan felt cold stoic Konan grow warm and pliant, like candle wax. He could feel the buttery sheen of her lipstick across the cushion of her lips and her tiny gasps of breath as they kissed. His tongue licked across her lower lip, asking for permission for entry. It was granted, as Konan parted her lips, and then their tongues entwinned.

The simple act of her tongue touching against his tingled a series of nerves throughout his whole body. New sensations woke up inside of him, sensations that he hadn’t even realised existed. Maybe they had lain dormant inside of him, waiting for this very moment.

Konan’s hand trailed down his spine, and he shivered with delight, wanting more and more. Her hand moved lower, and then lower still, before stroking a circle on his buttocks and giving it a pinch. It was Hidan’s turn to gasp, and with his hands on her waist he pulled her closer, frantically trying to deepen the kiss.

One of his hands moved back to the front of her body, playing with the tie that held her wrap-around dress together. Hidan didn’t care that they were in a public place, and didn’t care that anyone could burst in on them right now. He tugged at the tie, and felt the dress fall apart in his hands. The blue fabric hung loosely from her shoulders, leaving her body open and bare for him to touch.

Hidan reached forwards and let his hand slip inside the folds of her dress, aiming for one of her breasts. Through his half-closed eyes in the dim light, he could just about see the creamy white skin glowing beneath the black lace of her bra. Two crystals either side of her pale pink nipples winked through the flimsy fabric at him.

 _‘You naughty girl,’_ Hidan thought, and happiness settled over his chest as his hand cupped the soft flesh. He broke away from her lips momentarily, to murmur an endearment, telling her that she was an angel, and then he kissed her again. This time, she trembled under his touch; Hidan thought he heard a whimper, but he couldn’t be sure. He squeezed tightly, eager to begin exploring and learning the contours of her body.

And then there was a cold hand on his heart, and a hard shove. Hidan tumbled backwards, his hand still outstretched and wanting. Confused, he stared at Konan.

“I can’t,” Konan shook her head. She lifted her hand, and with her fingers wiped away the remnants of her lipstick self-consciously.

“What?” Hidan breathed, flustered as his chest heaved. His kiss-swollen lips parted as he panted. “Why? What is it?”

Konan glanced worriedly at the clock. She shook her head, as if she was trying to regain her composure. “Nagato needs me.”

“Nagato?” frowned Hidan. “But…this has got nothing to do with-”

“You should go, Hidan,” warned Konan, wrapping her dress back around herself tightly and folding her arms. She seemed to shrink inside of herself, as if she wanted to disappear.

“But why?” protested Hidan. Everything had been going well this evening, and Konan had initiated most of the contact. It seemed as though she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He stumbled a few paces towards her and tried to lay his hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “I like you. I really like you. I want to get to know you.”

“Go!” ordered Konan. Hidan stared at her, realising that her amber eyes were shiny and he could see his stunned reflection in them. She was…crying? Hidan wanted to reach out again and hold her close against his chest, to stroke his fingers through her blue hair, kiss her forehead and ask her what was really wrong, to understand her tears. But she had lifted her hand again, to hold him off. “Please…just go...”

Hidan picked himself upright, and then, obeying her commands, ran out the room and into the street. The cool air clashed against his flushed skin, and he almost stumbled. He practically ran all the way home, before slamming open the front door and then slamming it closed behind himself. Kakuzu would yell at him, but then Hidan would yell back. He almost wanted Kakuzu to come storming down just so that he would have someone to scream at.

He stormed into his room, and yanked open his bedside table. With a yell of frustration, Hidan ripped off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, so he stood barefoot and vulnerable in the darkened room, then grabbed his ceremonial Jashinist knife out of his drawer.

He moved from one room to the other, grabbing candles, incense, before slumping on the kitchen floor.

Now he was ready, Hidan moved slowly, concentrating. He lit the candle in front of him, lit a stick of incense, and laid them out in a neat little order. The scent of the incense calmed and soothed him, and so Hidan was ready for the next part.

The first cut was to draw the symbol. Hidan knew exactly where to do it so that he would have the amount of blood he needed and that wouldn’t cause significant damage. Once it was made, with his finger, Hidan dipped it into the wound, and then dabbed a little triangle around the candle and the incense. Then, he dipped his finger back in the wound, and dabbed a circle around the triangle, so that the symbol of Jashin enclosed the candle and the incense.

Hidan slipped off his pendant, his prayers being the only time that he ever removed it. He wrapped the rosary tightly in his hands, and kissed it.

He took in a deep breath, and then exhaled just as deeply. He took another, and then heaved a great sigh.

He thought of Konan’s blue hair, the way it tickled against his cheek as they kissed, the cold metal of her piercing on his lip, and her fresh floral scent.

“Dear Jashin, let me take Konan’s pain for her…” he murmured. “Let me take it, let me understand her…help her, Jashin…”

The room was silent and still but for Hidan’s frantic murmuring. In his head, he conjured what he knew of Konan’s life and her pain. He knew she was a widow, that she’d lost her husband. Hidan very well knew the pain of grief, and so he imagined himself as Konan, young and freshly alone in the world after swearing vows to stay together for eternity.

Then he thought of Nagato, of the continued stress that Konan must experience everyday having to look after him. Picking up Nagato, bathing him, dressing him, feeding him, attending to his bodily needs. The physical labour. And then even when she wasn’t doing that, she had to think about him, worry about him, arrange her entire day around him, her week, her month, her entire year, and attend to his social needs. The emotional labour.

But Hidan couldn’t understand why Konan allowed Nagato to have this kind of power over her. Hidan would never have allowed someone to treat him the way Nagato treated her. Whenever Kakuzu, or anyone else for that matter, was rude to him, Hidan always gave as good as he got.

Hidan struggled and struggled, trying to imagine why Konan allowed that. Eventually, Hidan’s mind turned to how he’d feel if Jashin ever treated him cruelly. He’d never leave Jashin, he’d always continue to put his faith in Jashin’s higher power because without Jashin, then he would be…no one, that was for certain. And then he began to empathise, just a little, about how Konan must feel.

_But Nagato is not god. He has no kind of higher power or authority. He’s just a man._

Maybe Nagato was her god, if not literally, but then figuratively. She said she believed in change, in tolerance. Maybe Nagato, who had once been a lawyer and continued to practise whatever skills and beliefs in equality and justice he had, _represented_ those ideals and that was why she held such high reverence and care for him. Hidan did not understand how a single man could do that, but Konan’s feelings were her own, and like his for Jashin, they were valid.

Hidan imagined it all, and then imagined the pain leaving Konan and instead being transferred to him.

His wrist where he’d made the cut throbbed, and he felt more blood trickle down.

_Good. It’s working._

* * *

Kakuzu was certain that he was not a caring man. Not in any sense of the word.

But even so, when he looked out the window and noticed that Hidan’s car was still in the garage, and that it was a Friday, when he knew that Hidan should have left for work by now, he couldn’t help but immediately feel suspicious.

Last night, he’d been disturbed from his book by the slamming of the front door. He’d lectured Hidan many times not to slam the front door because he’d break the glass windows and Kakuzu didn’t want to pay to get double glazing. He almost sent Hidan an angry passive-aggressive text, but decided not to because he wanted to get a decent night’s sleep and not have to put up with Hidan hitting his ceiling and Kakuzu’s floor with a mop all night. As he had done several times before.

Maybe he was off of work today sick, in which case, Kakuzu could justify a lecture about slamming the door. And remind Hidan not to play music obnoxiously loudly while he was at it.

He opened his door, and made his way down the stairs. He went to knock on Hidan’s door, only to realise that the door to Hidan’s ground floor flat was half-open. Kakuzu frowned, hoping that his tenant hadn’t been burgled. Although, if he had, then at least it had been Hidan and not Kakuzu. That was why Kakuzu made his tenants take the ground floor; because if there was a burglary, then they were the ones most likely to be robbed.

He pushed open the door, and then slipped in, cautiously glancing around for a burglar. But there was none.

Hidan wasn’t in the living room, or his bedroom. Kakuzu picked his way through the flat, stepping over Hidan’s discarded shirt and shoes.

Then, in the middle of the kitchen, he finally spotted Hidan lying motionless in the middle of the floor.

Hidan’s face was pale, and congealed blood trickled in rivulets down his bare arm. In front of him sat an extinguished candle, a stick of incense that Kakuzu had expressively told him not to use because of the fire hazard, and a ridiculous circled triangle drawn in blood around it.

“For god’s sake, Hidan, not again!” growled Kakuzu.

He bent down, and shook the bare shoulders of his tenant. Hidan groaned and groggily lifted his head to look at Kakuzu.

“You bloody idiot,” Kakuzu scolded. He lifted Hidan’s bloody wrist and waved it in front of Hidan’s face. “Why are you self-harming? Do you have any idea how stupid it is?”

“…I’m praying…” Hidan murmured.

“To what?”

“Jashin.”

“No such person,” Kakuzu scoffed. He stared at the mess that Hidan had made. The blood could be scrubbed out with vinegar and the floor sterilised with bleach. Thank goodness that Hidan had chosen to conduct his bloody ritual in the kitchen on the lino and not on the living room carpet.

He began to manoeuvre Hidan into a seated position. Hidan lay limp in his arms and allowed Kakuzu to haul him to his feet, and then walk him into his bedroom. Kakuzu laid him on his bed, and then dumped the duvet over him. Kakuzu didn’t care about Hidan’s bedsheets being stained with blood – they belonged to Hidan and not him, and Hidan could clean them.

Kakuzu flicked on Hidan’s kettle, and then began to make Hidan a cup of tea. Not because he particularly cared, he reminded himself, but because he wanted Hidan up and moving quickly to take care of this mess.

“Drink this,” he urged, holding the mug under Hidan’s nose. Hidan opened his eyes and stared at it, a glazed expression over his face. “What’s brought all this on then? Why aren’t you at work?”

Hidan gave a low groan. “…she’s in pain…”

“Who?” demanded Kakuzu, wondering what kind of riddle this was meant to be. “Who’s in pain?”

“The origamist,” Hidan lifted his injured wrist, and then gestured to the business card that lay on his bedside table.

Kakuzu laid the cup of tea down on the bedside table next to Hidan, and then picked it up.

_Konan. Origamist._

He recognised the name immediately. Konan was one of his tenants, and a prominent figure in town politics. And then it all clicked into place. The origami money rats that Hidan had pranked him with. Hidan must have gone to her. After all, there was no way in hell that Hidan would have had the patience to sit and fold up a rents worth of money notes into rats.

Kakuzu flicked Hidan’s nose.

“Hidan,” he barked.

Hidan’s eyes opened properly.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Kakuzu.

Hidan reluctantly sat upright, cradling his injured arm, but Kakuzu could almost tell that Hidan wanted to talk. He did this from time to time. It was almost like deep down, Hidan desperately wanted some kind of father figure, and had latched onto Kakuzu for that.

Kakuzu did not want a son. Or any other child for that matter. Kids were expensive. That was why he’d spent most of his life single.

But even so, when he did see Hidan in such a pitiful state, he almost couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility, a feeling that if he _did_ step in and sort this out or provide some kind of guidance for the younger man, then things would work out better for both of them in the long run and he wouldn’t have to waste time or money looking for another tenant.

Hidan folded his arms and stared away from Kakuzu.

“Hidan, tell me,” Kakuzu barked again.

“I’ve met a girl,” he admitted.

Kakuzu scoffed. “About time, I thought you were gay.”

“If I’m gay, then where are all the blokes I’m dating?” demanded Hidan. He gave a dramatic glance around the room. “Oh look, they’re not there!”

“That’s enough. Point taken,” Kakuzu folded his arms.

“I’ve met this girl, and she’s amazing,” Hidan slumped back on his pillows. “She’s clever, she’s so creative, and she’s so enterprising and driven. She’s fantastic…she’s going to stand as a representative on the Small Business Committee and she runs her own business that she started from scratch…”

“Konan, isn’t it?” Kakuzu lifted the business card.

Hidan snatched it back and cradled it in his hands.

“She’s great,” he muttered. “But she…she lives with this douchebag who uses a wheelchair and just uses her, and he uses his disability to manipulate her…it makes me _sick_ …that she’s such a wonderful person and he treats her like that.”

“Right,” Kakuzu folded her arms.

“And she has this husband, who died when she was young, and then he makes her keep his ashes on their mantlepiece and she can’t get rid of them and move on…it’s so wrong.”

“Ashes on the mantlepiece?” Kakuzu grimaced. “That’s even weirder than one of my business associates who keeps an embalmed cat in his house. Sasori, his name is. Do you know him?”

“Yes, he’s an ass. He and Deidara laughed at my origami sculpture last night.”

Kakuzu scoffed, thinking that Hidan was a much bigger ass than Sasori.

“I don’t know what to do, Kakuzu,” sighed Hidan, running his uninjured hand through his hair. The silver strands mussed, and he looked so unlike himself it was almost hilarious. “I prayed last night, to try and take the pain from her.”

At that ridiculous, stupid notion, Kakuzu nearly died on the inside. His eyebrows knotted together, and he shook his head despairingly. “Hidan, cutting yourself and claiming that you’re praying will not make a difference.”

“It’s holy!”

“It’s useless and a waste of time. Self-harm is pathetic. There are enough hateful horrible people in this world who would wish harm on you. _Believe me, I know_. Don’t fucking do it for them.”

“It’s how I pray!”

“Wishful thinking,” Kakuzu carried on. “If you truly like Konan and care about her and want to be a part of her life, you need to be what she needs and on her terms.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that you need to actually do something productive instead of praying to an invisible man in the sky,” said Kakuzu. “You can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to, and if even try to, then you’re a dick. But you can be there for her. Maybe you could try to take her mind off of things. Offer to help her with caring for Nagato, maybe.”

Hidan wrinkled his nose. “I’m not wiping a grown man’s arse.”

“That’s not what I’m suggesting. What I mean is be supportive. Carers often feel burnt out and have no one to take care of them or tell them that they need a break. There’s no support system for them whatsoever. Take her out to dinner, go to the cinema, spoil her a bit. Show her the kind of fulfilling happy life that she’s missing out on,” suggested Kakuzu.

Hidan was silent, thinking.

“Kakuzu,” he stated.

“Yes?” asked Kakuzu.

“You’re a genius!” Hidan flung himself upright, out of bed, grabbed Kakuzu’s face in his hands and planted a long kiss on Kakuzu’s forehead.

Kakuzu screamed, or as he preferred to say, gave a manly startled yelp of surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading :)
> 
> if anyone has any thoughts about this chapter they'd like to share, please feel free! I love to hear from my readers, I love short or long comments, and am always grateful for the support. i'm also happy to accept constructive critique, as long as it is polite, respectful & actually constructive! :P


	6. Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Hidan and Konan's disastrous first attempt at being together, Konan begins to realise how unhappy Nagato is making her, and starts thinking of moving on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! welcome back to the 6th chapter...you know after I realised this story would be more than 3 chapters I thought it might be 6 chapters...but now I can see its probably going to be more like 12. whoops XD
> 
> however, for the first half, we skip to Nagato's POV and start to understand how he feels about himself. he also makes some rather upsetting comments and stereotypes about other disabled people, and I apologise in advance if that upsets anyone.
> 
> I hope you'll like Hidan&Konan's first 'date' and Konan's idea of a 'present' to him! XD
> 
> btw...meet my OC Midori! she's Konan's piercing artist :)

Nagato’s alarm blared the song that had once been his favourite. A frail birdlike hand drifted through the air, and pressed it shut. He lay, in the half-gloom, his eyes half-lidded as he roused himself from sleep.

It was Konan who told him he needed the alarm. Who told him that he needed the routine. Who would worry if he didn’t get up.

Nagato debated the pros and cons of getting himself out of bed today. On one hand, his pain levels seemed manageable, and it was just a matter of wrapping his dressing gown around himself and climbing into his chair. On the other hand, it was nice to make her come in and look after him, and feel cared for. No one else cared about him, or touched him, or provided him with such unconditional unyielding support.

Nagato felt a wave of bitterness surge through him. He concentrated on his legs, and then fired a furious command of motor neurons, willing them to move.

They didn’t.

Nagato lay back against the pillow with a fruitless sigh. His legs would never respond to his hatred, but Konan certainly did. When Nagato glared at her, made snarky comments, Konan could chew her lip, cast her eyes downward, cringe, and sometimes cry.

From his pillow, Nagato watched the sun rise and settle in the middle of the sky, but heard no sign of Konan. He frowned, thinking how unalike her that was. Usually she would be up, bare feet scampering lightly around the house.

He reached for his dressing gown, laid on the other side of the bed where he could reach it, and huddled inside. Using all of his strength, he sat upright, then began to manoeuvre himself into his chair with his arms, leaning on the side of his bed and the support rail that Konan had drilled into the wall for him.

Once he was seated in his chair, Nagato sat breathlessly for a minute. His thin, stringy arms ached with the effort. He much preferred it when Konan lifted him, as it meant he used less energy.

Regaining his breath, he pulled the door open towards him, and then wheeled himself out into the hallway. Nagato wheeled his way through the hall, frowning at the closed curtains. Usually, Konan would have opened all of them by now.

What the hell was wrong with her today?

He peered into the living room through his curtain of limp red hair. Lying on the sofa, like the strange man the other day, was Konan. In her arms she clutched the urn of Yahiko’s ashes, cradling it like a lover.

Nagato was filled with a mixture of compassion and contempt. Compassion because he too missed Yahiko; he missed his best friend with all of his heart and the only person who even came close to understanding was Konan herself. Contempt because Konan caused this. She brought it all on herself.

Nagato watched her for a few moments, as he debated how to react. Tear tracts streaked with mascara stains marked her face. Her hair was tousled, and her lips were swollen, like she’d been kissing somebody passionately.

Maybe it was the urn she’d been kissing.

She’d done that a few times, when she thought Nagato wasn’t looking. But there was nothing Nagato could say, and even he couldn’t bring himself to think of a cruel comment to make. Not when he too clutched the urn for comfort when Konan was out and he was lonely.

A chink of light from the closed curtain finally fell upon Konan’s face as the sun rose around to the other side of the house. He watched her wrinkle her nose and blink sleepily, before eventually lifting her head and looking around the room.

When she saw him, she winced. Nagato had noticed long ago that she tended to do that. As if she half-expected him to launch an attack.

_Am I really so terrifying? Me, a paralysed man?_

It made him feel powerful.

No one else made him feel like that.

“Why are you on the sofa?” asked Nagato. He glanced at the ticking clock on the television set. “In fact, why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m not going to work today.”

That was unusual. Konan always wanted to be at work. Every morning, she rushed out with an eagerness that she rarely displayed around him.

Curiosity gained the upper hand of Nagato. “Why not?”

“I just don’t want to.”

It was on the tip of Nagato’s tongue to make a snide remark about affording the bills, but he bit it back. Konan’s fingers ran in a circle against the cool porcelain of the urn.

“All right,” said Nagato. “Let’s just stay here. It’s…just another day, isn’t it?”

Konan nodded.

He reached across, and laid his hand over hers on the urn.

And they were all together again.

Yahiko. Nagato. Konan.

Nagato bit back his bitterness and held it under his tongue. She was repentant right now. He didn’t need to be bitter.

Without his bitterness, Nagato was filled with a large swollen sadness that expanded inside his chest and pressed against his skin. It blew him up, and made him feel like he was about to explode. He let it, allowed the feelings to wash over him, and then he felt them vibrating and permeating out of him and into the rest of the room. But it wasn’t enough. Not enough of the sadness seeped out, he was still filling up and up and it was unbearable.

But the seeping sadness was enough to effect Konan. She shifted, sitting upright. Her sadness seemed to fade, seemed to pale in comparison to his. Yes, she had lost her husband, but she was still able to walk. Nagato had lost his best friend and his mobility. Konan could move on with her life, she could do what she liked and go where she pleased. Nagato could not. And she did live a life, she had her business and her friendship circles and her hobbies. Nagato did not.

And so as far as he was concerned, her feelings were not as important as his.

The sadness was too much. Nagato couldn’t take it anymore. He withdrew his hand. Konan sat up, still cradling the urn to herself.

“I’m hungry,” stated Nagato, letting the bitterness close in again.

“I’m not.”

“I had to put myself in my chair this morning, so I’m too tired to make it myself,” announced Nagato. “You’ll have to do it, because you didn’t put me in my chair.”

Konan stared at him. Nagato expected her to ask him what he wanted, but instead, she asked a different question. “What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

Nagato frowned. “What?”

“If I wasn’t here,” repeated Konan. “What would you do without me?”

Nagato shrugged. “Die, I suppose.”

Konan set the urn on the coffee table with a shudder, and then wandered into the kitchen. Nagato turned his chair around to face the television set, and flicked it onto the news. He watched as Donald Trump’s latest stupid antics were blared before the world, and then some scenes of war and destruction in some far, foreign country he’d never been to, and then some more scenes of hospitals buckling and crippling without appropriate government funding.

He scowled, and felt the sadness inside of him twist, turning ever more bitter. Stupid world. He lived in a stupid, stupid world. When Konan brought him porridge with honey he sat pushing it around the bowl. “Where were you anyway, last night?”

“At my origami class.”

Nagato sucked his teeth. “You were late.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter when I have to sit on my own in the dark.”

“It’s none of your business where I go and what I do.”

Nagato stopped, the spoon clattering against the bowl. He stared speechlessly at Konan. She hadn’t spoken to him like that in years. Nagato briefly wondered what had brought on the change. It couldn’t be one of her friends. Sasori was certainly the type who liked to poke his nose in other people’s business, but had never spoken a word so far. Itachi was the type who minded his own business, and he had always been respectful to Nagato. Nagato doubted he would be the type to start influencing Konan to disrespect him. Deidara was a kid, who didn’t know anything, and wouldn’t have said anything. Kisame knew to mind his own business.

It was that man, that Hidan. Nagato knew from the moment he saw him that he would be trouble.

“You should start making some friends of your own, Nagato,” stated Konan. “You should go out with your own circle of friends and make your own hobbies.”

“I can’t,” Nagato seethed. “Nowhere is accessible. This town is not made for people like me.”

“That’s not true. There are support groups.”

“Full of drooling idiots,” spat Nagato. “I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to go on a trip in the Sunshine Bus and be stared at like a pariah.”

“They wouldn’t make you go on the Sunshine Bus,” Konan retorted, louder. “And they’re not drooling idiots. That’s very cruel of you to say so. You should know better. You, of all people.”

Deep at the back of his mind, Nagato knew Konan was right. He hated it when they were out and people spoke to Konan, and not him, as if he was unable to understand or hold a conversation. Even his doctors and the various medical personal he’d dealt with over the years had been guilty of doing so.

But Konan didn’t have to experience it. He did. Nagato opened his mouth, ready to respond, but Konan beat him to it.

“I’m not going to talk to you if that’s how you think it’s acceptable to talk about others,” Konan climbed upright, towering above him. She stepped out of the room towards the stairs. “I’m going to get dressed, and I’m going to go out.” 

* * *

Walking briskly down the road away from Nagato felt risky. Konan was pretty sure she would have to pay for it later with even more sulking, more snarky comments, more cruel put-downs and bitter words, but for the first time ever, she was struggling to care. Konan wanted was to feel good right now, to feel happy. She wanted her heart to beat and to look forward to what the next day would bring.

_Hidan helped her feel like that._

Konan shook her head at that notion. It wasn’t _just_ Hidan. It was her paper, her hut, her customers, her classes, her friends, her Small Business Committee meetings, and her dreams; the ones that remained even after all the others were destroyed, the new ones she had created from the scraps, as she pulled herself out of the tunnel of tears, soiled bedding and plain pasta.

It was walking along the seafront in the summer, feeling the rain tickle her nose, the first orange leaf to fall from the trees, remembering the way Jiraiya would read her stories, choosing new jewellery for her piercings, thinking about ideas for origami sculptures, inventing new techniques and writing about them.

It was going to art shows and museums with Sasori, Deidara scampering after them, sampling Itachi’s new cakes, waving to Kisame from the harbour, laughing at his toddler son Shizuma whenever he tried to chew her origami sculptures, sassing Kakuzu when he made snarky comments about raising the rent and standing up to Obito Uchiha whenever he threatened to cut the funding for the Small Business Committee meetings.

Konan had made a life for herself as a single woman. She knew that a romantic partner was not necessary for self-validation and she knew how to survive self-sufficiently. She knew that if she had sexual needs then she could pick anyone up and do whatever she wanted with them, then dispose of them as she pleased. To be with another person permanently was a choice, an addition, a compliment to what she already had in her life.

But wouldn’t it be nice to be able to make that addition?

It was too late to go to work, Konan wasn’t prepared to set the hut up, and besides, it was a Friday. She rarely received any business on a weekday, as most people tended to visit on a Saturday. Konan started to debate changing the hours that she worked, and maybe spending more time working on other projects. But the hut really was a respite from Nagato, where she could sit and work on her Etsy and online orders.

Instead, her feet found themselves walking in the direction of Itachi’s café, hoping for some calm company. When she arrived, Itachi was alone, but for a middle-aged woman with such long glossy black hair, Konan realised could only be his mother. She perched at the table closest to the counter, with a latte with a heart sprinkled on in cocoa powder and a half-eaten slab of cake in front of her.

“Hey Konan,” greeted Itachi. “This is my mum, Mikoto. Mum, this is Konan. She’s an origamist. She comes to the Small Business Committee with me, and she’s going to stand for representative. She’s got my vote.”

“Stop it,” Konan dismissed his words, and then sat down at an opposite table.

“No work today?” asked Itachi.

“No. I was going to go but Nagato…” she trailed off, not wanting to reveal too much information in front of Itachi’s mother. “Nagato is being Nagato.”

“I see,” said Itachi. “Well, what can I get you?”

Konan glanced at the time. It had just gone past midday, and was time for lunch. But Konan hadn’t yet eaten, and wasn’t sure what she was in the mood for yet.

“Just a cappuccino,” decided Konan. She tucked her bag on the opposite seat to her, and then sat studying the menu.

Itachi turned to the other side of the counter and got to work. Immediately, the coffee machine whistled and steam blew out of the top. Konan leant over the table, on her elbows, thinking to herself. Nagato was going to be so pissed when she got home. She probably ought to go home now and make amends, otherwise all she was doing was prolonging the inevitable.

But why should she?

Why should she have to scuttle around after Nagato?

He didn’t scuttle around after her.

_Because you caused the accident and you’re the reason he can’t walk and you’re the reason Yahiko is dead and so it’s your fault and it will always be your fault and you have to atone for it with every second of your life, it will always live with you, always be on your mind, wherever you go, whatever you do, it will always be your fault and you will always remember every single moment every time you close your eyes; Yahiko’s body in the morgue, Nagato in the hospital clinging to life support, Yahiko’s coffin, Nagato wasting away in his wheelchair, and YOU DESERVE IT._

Konan shuddered, and then clutched the side of the table for support.

“Are you all right?” asked Mikoto, dark eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine,” replied Konan. “Thank you.”

Itachi laid down her cappuccino in front of her. “Here. Drink this.”

Konan noticed that Itachi had slipped a biscuit beside the drink. She sipped at the cappuccino, and felt it fill the pit of her empty stomach. She noticed Itachi watched until she had taken a sip, before turning back to sit beside his mother.

“Is the cake all right, mama? Do you like my café?”

Konan stole a glance sideways. Itachi’s dark eyes were wide for approval, in a manner that Konan had never seen him wear before. It was almost touching. Mikoto reached over and gently tugged at the long black ponytail over his shoulder.

“It’s very sweet, I know how you like your sweets.”

Itachi practically glowed. Konan glanced away, back to her cappuccino, allowing the mother and son to have their moment. For a brief moment, Konan was filled with a sense of longing, to be a part of a family and to have a mother who cared about her. Maybe her mother would tell her what she ought to do. She stared at one of the white napkins on the table, and imagined folding it. That was all her mother had given her. A talent for folding, that had given her hope and a livelihood.

Even if Konan couldn’t remember her face, her mother was always with her.

She took a deep sip of her cappuccino, and then lowered it back to the table. She stared at her reflection in the murky brown depths.

_Is it really my fault? It was an accident and people have accidents all the time. Do I really have to feel like this for rest of my life, would this be what Yahiko would want?_

There was a slight tinkle, and then the three of them looked up to greet the newcomer. Of all the people in the world to arrive…it just had to be him. Konan felt her cheeks tinge pink, remembering their thwarted encounter last night. She was not ashamed of her desires, but what shamed her was the subsequent weakness that she revealed to him.

Hidan looked pale and drawn and there was a bandage wrapped around one of his wrists. He looked vulnerable himself. Konan immediately pulled herself together, reminding herself that Itachi and his mother didn’t know what had happened, and she could save the situation and take back control.

“Hidan,” she nodded. “Why don’t you…take a seat here?”

Hidan blinked, confused, but then sat down. Itachi and his mother bent their heads as they talk amongst themselves, their conversation switching to Japanese.

“What happened to your arm?” Konan reached for it, to take another look, but Hidan pulled it away.

“Leave it, it’s nothing, nothing for you to worry about,” he mumbled, pulling his sleeve down over his wrist, concealing the bandage, and then grabbed a menu.

“Do you want a double expresso, Hidan?” asked Itachi, climbing up and heading behind the counter.

“Sure man,” Hidan lowered the menu, as Itachi flicked on the coffee machine. He glanced at Konan. “Have you eaten?”

“No. Have you?”

“No, I’m starving,” replied Hidan. He met her eyes. “What can I get for you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it myself,” replied Konan.

“Let me…” Hidan leant forward. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Can I get either of you anything to eat?” asked Itachi, leaning over the counter towards them.

“I want the pulled pork and steak open sandwich, loads of steak, loads of the pulled pork, less of the salad, but the dressing and the bread are fine,” replied Hidan.

“Someone likes their protein,” remarked Konan.

“It’s good for you.”

“And what about the vegetables? Aren’t they supposed to be good for you?”

Hidan grimaced.

Konan turned back to Itachi. “I’ll have the salmon and cream cheese open sandwich. Plenty of salad for me please.”

Itachi jotted down their orders, and then got to work pulling out plates and cutlery. The slightly awkward moment averted with Konan’s tease, they stared back at one another.

Hidan buckled under her stare first. “So…”

Konan knew they would have to talk about it at some point. Perhaps she ought to go first, to retain her power and control over the situation. She’d thought about it last night, as the tips of her fingers drew circles over the belly of the urn.

She’d had lovers before, that was true. But they had been empty – blank empty slates that were nothing like Yahiko in any manner. Some of them were women, which were obviously incredibly different to Yahiko. If she looked at Hidan, he didn’t look like her husband at all. His hair was silver and smooth, not orange and spiky, he was porcelain pale, not tanned and freckled, his eyes were violet, not brown.

But when he made his silly jokes, when he tripped over his own words and said dumb things, when he made this particular goofy face, his passion and enthusiasm for the things he cared about, Konan couldn’t help but be struck by the similarity. It was uncanny.

But it was nice. It was nice to be around someone funny, who made her laugh and smile. It was a good thing. She deserved to feel like that, like anyone else.

_No, you don’t, because you killed Yahiko and paralysed Nagato and-_

_SHUT. UP._

“I’m glad you came by, Hidan,” said Konan quietly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Hidan glanced at her curiously. “You did? Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, I wouldn’t do that…unless you’re into it-”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Konan shook her head. “You just reminded me of my husband.”

“Oh,” Hidan stopped, and then stared at her curiously. He lifted his hand, gesturing to his face. “Do I look like him?”

“Not at all.”

Hidan tilted his head curiously. “So, how do I remind you of him?”

“When you act like a dork,” admitted Konan.

“Wait, what? I don’t act like a dork! How am I a dork?” Hidan burst out.

“You’re acting like one now,” replied Konan. Hidan groaned and put his head in his hands. Konan smiled, and decided to put him out of his misery. “It’s all right, it’s kind of cute.”

“No one has ever said that to me before,” admitted Hidan, sitting back up to face her. “I’ve been called loud, scary, terrifying, obnoxious, thickhead, stupid-”

Konan frowned. “Who called you that?”

“People at school…my teachers…they said I’d never amount to anything…” replied Hidan. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “But it was my parents, mostly,”

“Do you see them much?”

“Not for four years.”

“Speak to them?”

“When I have to.”

“Oh,” Konan glanced down at the table, trying to think of the last time she spoke to Jiraiya. It had been weeks, months, nearly. And that was Nagato’s doing. Maybe she would visit Jiraiya by herself, and screw what Nagato said. He didn’t have to come. She glanced back over at Hidan. “Do you not get on?”

“Not really,” replied Hidan. “I was a bit of a handful as a kid, and then when I was a teenager and acted up in school, they said I was the child of a devil. I don’t think they were interested in having a kid. Well. No. I think they wanted a kid, a normal kid, but not me.”

“Really?” frowned Konan, thinking that the part about Hidan being ‘the child of a devil’ sounded particularly cruel.

“It’s all right, I’ve moved away now, it’s easier. It’s best if we don’t have contact,” replied Hidan. Konan watched as his shoulders deflated, and his posture sagged. The light in his eyes dimmed, and his words were tinged with bitterness and grief.

“You’re not the child of a devil,” Konan assured him, reaching for his hand across the table.

“Actually, I quite like it,” Hidan grinned. “Even if I’m officially a Jashinist.”

And there he was, being a dork again. Konan felt her heart simultaneously swell and shatter. But the swelling was stronger than the shattering. The swelling pushed the shattered pieces back together, and dare Konan admit it, but they seemed to meld together once again.

“Lunches,” Itachi appeared above them, carrying two plates.

“Thank you,” said Konan, accepting hers.

“Cheers man,” said Hidan, accepting his.

Itachi turned away, and went to sit back down with his mother.

Before Konan took a bite of her lunch, she reached back over for Hidan’s hand, catching it before he could pick up his fork.

“Hey Hidan,” she said lowly, so that Itachi and his mother couldn’t catch it. “Even if your parents don’t want you in their lives, I do, ok?”

His unusual magenta eyes stared at her hand, and then met hers. “You do?”

“I do,” nodded Konan. “These things…this…dating again, it’s hard for me. Because when a person grieves, they don’t just do it once and then get over it. There are things, certain places, certain songs, certain smells, that just remind me of Yahiko, even when I don’t expect them to. And then when things happen, like I invent a new origami style, or it’s my birthday, or I go somewhere new, I feel sad, because Yahiko can’t share it. And I have to grieve for him all over again.”

“I see,” said Hidan.

“I suppose you must think I’m some sad, depressed widow, don’t you?”

“ _No_. I don’t think of you like that at all.” Then he lowered his voice, practically mumbling into his shirt. “Actually…I don’t have a lot of experience dating.”

“What?” asked Konan, wondering how a handsome and charismatic man like Hidan had such little experience.

“I don’t have a lot of experience dating…people say I’m scary and obsessed with death,” explained Hidan, lifting his head back up to speak clearly. “My only real friend is Deidara, and even then I nearly shoved him out my car onto a dual carriageway last weekend.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because he was blowing condoms up and saying my personality was shit.”

“I saw the video.”

“You did?” Hidan’s head perked up. “But I don’t have you on Facebook.”

“I have Deidara,” replied Konan. She pulled out her phone, ignoring the missed call and texts from Nagato. She opened the Facebook app, and then searched for Hidan’s name. He appeared first in the search bar, due to their mutual friends and her following him on Instagram. She tapped on his profile, and then clicked ‘Add Friend.’ “And you do now.”

Hidan pulled out his phone, and opened Facebook. There was a notification, saying that Konan had added him. He accepted.

“There,” said Hidan. “You’re my new friend now.”

They ate the rest of their lunches, and then they climbed up to pay Itachi. Several more customers had arrived, and Itachi was beginning to get busy.

“I’ll get this,” said Hidan, pulling out his wallet.

“No, you won’t,” replied Konan, reaching for her purse.

“No, seriously, it’s on me.”

“I believe in equality, I’ll get my half,” insisted Konan.

“You know, I have other customers to serve,” added Itachi.

Hidan shoved his card in Itachi’s face. “I’m getting it.”

Itachi accepted the card and then handed Hidan the bill.

“Sorry, Konan,” he admitted sheepishly. “But I can’t stand here all day. Are you coming to the party at the weekend?”

“The party?” asked Konan, as Hidan tapped in his pin.

“Yes, it’s my parents’ silver wedding anniversary and they’ve decided to have a party,” explained Itachi, gesturing back to his mother as she tapped away at her phone. “All of the family is invited, and they said I could invite my friends. You two are both welcome to come. And bring Nagato. He needs to come out more, it will be good for him.”

“I’ll ask him,” said Konan, but already she was debating an acceptable excuse to leave Nagato at home and attend with Hidan.

Itachi printed off a receipt, and handed it to Hidan along with his card. Together, he and Konan left the café, but this time, they walked hand in hand.

“Where now?” asked Konan.

“Where do you like to go?” asked Hidan.

“How about I show you where I get my piercing jewellery from? I’ll be able to introduce you to a friend of mine,” offered Konan.

“A friend?”

“That’s right.”

Konan pulled him inside a piercing jewellery shop. Hidan stared around at the stands of jewellery in glass displays that twirled when he touched them. Konan immediately began to study a pair of matching barbell jewels with ornamental roses either side.

“What are they for?” asked Hidan, sidling up behind her and slipping his arm through hers.

“Where you think?” asked Konan.

“Those ones that people get between their noses," Hidan pinched the tip of his nose to demonstrate.

“Wrong,” said Konan.

“Then where?” asked Hidan, but Konan had no time to answer him, as a black-haired lady with sharp eyeliner emerged from the backroom. As soon as she spotted Konan, her crimson-painted lips spread in a smile.

“Konan! What brings you here?” she asked. She tilted her head, and then raised a drawn on eyebrow. “Found somewhere you haven’t had pierced yet?”

The corner of Konan’s mouth twitched. “Not quite.”

“And who’s this charming young man?” she asked, looking at Hidan.

“I don’t know what charming young man you’re referring to, Midori, but this is Hidan,” said Konan.

“Hey!” protested Hidan.

“He doesn’t have any piercings,” stated Midori, scanning Hidan. “Or does he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” replied Konan. She turned to Hidan. “Do you?”

Hidan shook his head.

“He’s a virgin!” snickered Midori.

“Now, now, Midori, we all have our first times,” Konan replied. She turned back to Hidan, who’s cheeks were red. “See anything you like?”

“A few,” admitted Hidan.

“How about I treat you?” asked Konan, reaching for her purse.

Hidan stared at her. “What? Now?”

“That’s right,” said Konan. “Unless you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared,” said Hidan. “I’m just thinking because of work…”

“So you’ll need something you can cover up,” said Midori, rifling through her book. “Konan, why don’t you pick somewhere?”

Konan turned away, and began to study another rack of piercing jewellery. “Midori, pierce his nipple.”

“My nipple?”

Konan turned back to face him. “So we can match, of course.”

Midori led them into a room at the back, and Hidan sat down in the chair in the middle of the room. Konan flicked through the catalogue, looking at various barbells.

“You’ll need to remove your shirt,” said Midori.

“No problem,” said Hidan, pulling off his jacket and ripping off his shirt to reveal his six pack. It was only when he reached his sleeves he stopped.

“What happened to your arm?” asked Midori.

“Oh…I was cooking tea last night and I knocked a load of knives off the draining board over onto my arm,” replied Hidan. “Nothing to worry about…my landlord patched me up.”

“That was nice of them.”

“He can be a nice guy when he tries,” replied Hidan.

Midori washed her hands, and then rubbed in some sterilising hand lotion. She put on a fresh pair of clothes and then began to prepare her equipment.

“Konan, would you be so kind to clean his skin for me while I get everything ready?” asked Midori.

“Of course,” said Konan, reaching for the sterilising hand lotion. She cleaned her hands, and then snapped on a pair of gloves. Hidan watched her as she picked up a packet of wipes, and then walked over.

Konan decided to shock him, and so she straddled him in the chair, swiping across his left nipple with the sterilizing wipe. But she didn’t stop there, her hand rubbed in a circle several times, while she stared at him in the eyes.

“I didn’t know you knew how to-” Hidan faltered.

“For a little while I was a piercing artist,” replied Konan. “I’m out of practise now…but Midori lets me help whenever she’s short-staffed.”

“Are you going to…?” asked Hidan.

“No, I’m going to leave that to the expert. I can’t risk you walking around lopsided,” Konan climbed off his lap, and then sat down beside him. She accepted his hand as he reached for her. Midori turned around, clutching a clamp. She pinned it to Hidan’s nipple, marking where she wanted the needle to go. Then she turned around, brandishing a needle.

The needle threaded through Hidan’s skin. Konan heard his sharp intake of breath, and his hand on hers tightened. Then Midori slid the jewellery through, and wiped it again with a sterilising wipe.

“That didn’t hurt,” bragged Hidan.

“Of course it didn’t. Of course you didn’t squeeze my hand and wince,” replied Konan. She paid Midori for the piercing, and then they continued their route up the high street. Konan wrapped her arm around Hidan’s, and then leant her head against his shoulder.

“Well, this has been an interesting date,” remarked Hidan.

“It’s been a date, has it?” Konan lifted her head to look up at him.

“Do you think it’s a date?” asked Hidan.

“It was an impromptu date.”

“I’d like to date you properly.”

“You would?”

“Yes.”

“You mean like hearts and flowers?”

“Maybe something a bit more badass.”

Konan laughed softly against his arm, and then snuggled against him again. She felt his eyes on the top of her head, but from the warmth of his hold on her, knew that he was watching her with that soft look of his.

“When are you free?” asked Hidan.

“I’m working tomorrow,” replied Konan. “The on Sunday we have the party…but my Saturday night is clear.”

“I’ll take you out. Would you like that?”

“I would,” Konan stopped walking, and then pulled him closer by his jacket. She slipped her hand inside of his jacket, and gently ran it along his muscled chest, lightly brushing over the freshly pierced nipple so that he winced.

“I’ll come and pick you up, and surprise you,” Hidan laid his hands on her shoulders, and leant down so that only she could hear him.

“Surprise me?”

“Yes. I’ll treat you, babe.”

Konan leant up, and pulled him down into a kiss. Not caring that they were in the middle of the street, they kissed wildly and with reckless abandon. Konan didn’t even care if any of her regular customers walked past and saw her. Hidan was hers now, and she would be damned before she let him go.

* * *

Later that evening, it seemed only fitting that the Small Business Committee elected her as their representative in a landslide election, and that Itachi had brought a bottle of wine and nibbles to celebrate.

She would have to face Nagato by Saturday morning, Saturday evening at a push, but for the first time, Konan struggled to bring herself to care. If Nagato was unhappy, it was his own doing, and he could be the one to make the changes in his life to become a better person. Konan would not do it for him.

She had her own life to lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, do you guys think Konan is making the right decision to move on? How do you think their next date will play out?


	7. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan and Konan finally go on a 'proper' date, where they bond closer, and end up consummating their attraction to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go guys! Hidan and Konan finally go out on an actual, planned date, to a nice, normal place. I hope you all like it bc it is nearly 7000 words long XD
> 
> I had so much fun choosing their outfits, writing their banter, and then writing the sex. this is actually the first hidakona sex scene I ever plotted out, long before I wrote The Ways of Worship. I really hope you enjoy this chapter bc of the amount of time and effort that went into this one.
> 
> I also feel the need to warn that Hidan makes a few ableist comments towards Nagato at the beginning of this chapter. I do not agree with his words, but I do agree that Nagato needs to be called out for his treatment&emotional manipulation of Konan, in a more respectful manner.

“Why are you so happy? It’s nauseating,” grumbled Kakuzu, as Hidan bounced back from the shops on Saturday morning.

“I have a date,” Hidan lifted several shopping bags to show Kakuzu.

“Oh. So you and your origamist worked things out?”

“That’s right,” Hidan grinned. He reached inside one of the bags, and pulled out two formal evening shirts, holding one in each hand. “Which one do you think will make me look hottest, old man?”

“The dark coloured one. Then if you spill food down yourself it won’t show.”

Hidan’s arms slumped. “I won’t fucking spill food on myself!”

“Drink, then,” said Kakuzu.

“I’m not drinking, I’m driving,” retorted Hidan.

“Orange squash.”

“You’re such a dick,” Hidan barged back into his flat, but not even Kakuzu could ruin his mood. He hung up his new shirts on the outside door of his wardrobe, snapped a picture with his phone, and then messaged it to Deidara.

_Oi blondie. Which one would make me look the most sexy? X_

Deidara pinged back a response.

_Why are you asking me this?? Why would I know?_

Hidan tapped out a reply.

_I have a date, Dei, and need some advice. Kakuzu said the dark one so if I spill drink on myself then no one will see x_

Deidara’s response pinged.

_Do what Kakuzu said._

Hidan practically groaned, but had to admit that Deidara was right. He picked up the charcoal grey shirt, and hung it on the front of his wardrobe, before selecting a pair of black trousers and matching black shoes to wear with it.

That afternoon, Hidan reclined back in the bath for hours, scrubbing every inch of himself clean, trimming his nails, and deep-conditioning his hair. He made sure to gently lap the water over his new piercing and tried not to wince when it stung. He had to admit, it did look good. And although he’d told Konan it didn’t hurt, that wasn’t strictly true.

He lulled in the water, allowing it to cool from scorching hot to a milder warm. Steam fogged up the mirrors and the windows, and he knew Kakuzu would complain to him about the condensation, but he didn’t care.

Hidan emerged from the bath, and then leant over the sink, making sure he was clean-shaved. He applied aftershave to his cheeks, chin, and underneath his neck. He combed back his hair, ran some gel through his hands, before styling it the way he liked. He took a quick sideways glance at the scar on his ear, before deciding that it made him look sexy.

After towelling himself dry, he pulled on a new pair of underwear and squirted himself with deodorant. Whenever Deidara accompanied him down the gym, Deidara complained that Hidan had never grown out of his adolescent schoolboy phrase of drowning himself in Lynx. Hidan ignored him, knowing that he would rather smell of deodorant than a Lush store like Deidara.

Hidan pulled on his trousers, and then sat down to put on a new pair of socks. He buttoned on his shirt, then slid on his shoes. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and then darted back in the mirror for another look.

He adjusted the bouquet of flowers he’d brought and hoped that they would be to Konan’s liking. Deidara had assured him that they were Konan’s favourite. At quarter to seven, Hidan had had enough of waiting. He climbed up, grabbed the flowers, and then opened his door, only to almost barge into Kakuzu.

“Oi!” yelped Hidan, holding back the flowers to stop them from crushing. “What, are you stalking me?”

“Right,” growled Kakuzu. “I’m not saying this because I particularly want to, or care, but-”

“But what, old man?” demanded Hidan.

“But if you’re going on a date, and things progress from there, you need to take these,” Kakuzu shoved a box wrapped in a brown paper bag into Hidan’s spare hand.

“What are they? Chocolates?” Hidan lifted the bag and rattled it, listening to the sound it made.

“Just…” Kakuzu raised his hands in frustration. “Just…if it comes to it…use them, ok?”

Hidan scrabbled with the brown paper bag, and then looked inside.

“Condoms?!” he yelled. “Are you out of your mind?”

“No offence, but you’d be a horrible father,” shrugged Kakuzu. “And I don’t allow babies in my property.”

“Fuck you old man!”

“No chance,” said Kakuzu. He placed his hands behind his back. “Just take them, and if it comes to it, use them.”

“You’re gross.”

“I’m always prepared!” shouted Kakuzu.

Hidan turned back, with his hand on the front door handle. “Who the hell have you been sleeping with then?”

“More people than you.”

Hidan stormed out the house, wondering where he was meant to hide the condoms so Konan didn’t see them. When he sat in the driver’s seat of the car, laying the flowers on the passenger seat so they stayed fresh, he opened the bag and realised that Kakuzu had bought a bumper pack, probably from Costco. Hidan groaned. It wasn’t even small enough to discreetly hide in the compartment of his car, and he didn’t want to risk throwing it in the backseat or the boot where Konan could potentially spot them.

Hidan debated what to do, before he had an idea. He switched on the ignition, and then pressed his foot on the clutch. Putting the car into first gear, he found the biting point, then after checking all around him, released the handbrake and pulled out. He drove the car, not in the direction of Konan’s house, but in the direction of Deidara’s.

Outside, he parked, and then walked up the driveway with the condoms. He knocked on the door.

“What is it?” asked Deidara, opening the door. “I thought you were on a date tonight?”

“I am,” said Hidan. “But Kakuzu’s been an ass and given me these.”

He shoved the bag with the box of condoms in Deidara’s hands.

Deidara opened the bag. “What? Why has he given you condoms?!”

“Because apparently I’d make a terrible father and he doesn’t want kids in his house,” replied Hidan. “I can’t risk hiding them in the car anywhere, so I need you to look after them.”

“But…” Deidara frowned. “What if you want to use them?”

“For Jashin’s sake, Dei!” exploded Hidan. “I can’t just go up to Konan and be like ‘Oh, hi Konan, let’s go out for a date, what shall we do, oh I know, I have a giant bumper pack of condoms right here that my stupid fucking landlord gave me!’ and then pull them out! Even I know that’s bad dating etiquette! She’d slap me!”

“I can’t have them!” Deidara shoved them back at Hidan. “My parents are home!”

“And?”

“I don’t want them to think I’m having sex!”

“You’re nineteen!”

“I don’t care! I don’t want them to even know!”

“You don’t have to say they’re yours!” Hidan shoved them back at Deidara.

“I don’t want them!”

“Yes, you do! You like blowing them up!”

“That was one time!”

“Just take the condoms, Dei!”

“I don’t want them!” Deidara shoved them back to Hidan.

“Dei, please, do me this one favour!” pleaded Hidan.

“No!”

“Please!”

“No!”

“Please, Dei!” begged Hidan. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything?” repeated Deidara.

“Yes, anything!”

Deidara’s light blue eyes glinted. “Fine. I’ll hide your condoms. But when you say _anything_ , you better mean anything.”

Hidan handed the condoms to Deidara. “You’re a gentleman, Dei.”

“You’re an ass,” Deidara held the bag behind his back. “Have a good time.”

“I love you Dei!” called Hidan, running back to his car.

Deidara put his middle finger up as a goodbye, and closed the door. Hidan sat back in the driver’s seat, before preparing to drive again. He drove back past his house, and round to Konan’s. It was one minute to seven.

Perfect timing.

Hidan secured the car, picked up the flowers, before straightening his outfit. He walked up the pathway, and knocked.

He waited.

He swallowed.

He shuffled his feet.

And he waited.

Finally, the door swung open.

“You’re not my pizza,” stated Nagato.

“Do I look like a fucking pizza?” demanded Hidan.

“More like a dog’s dinner-” began Nagato.

“That’s enough,” interrupted Konan, moving into view. “Let’s go.”

Hidan stared. Konan wore a tight black bodycon dress with a halter neck and a pair of matching black strappy heels. Her eyes were lined with smoky eyeshadow, and her hair was down. Without her hair in her side bun, it fell longer down her shoulders, and tousled slightly.

“Wow,” he murmured.

“You clean up nicely yourself,” Konan reached forwards and tugged his collar affectionately.

“These…these are for you,” Hidan mumbled, handing over the bouquet. He felt silly, holding them out. For the mere reason that offering flowers to a woman was…simply something he didn’t do.

“For me? That’s adorable,” Konan accepted them, and then the tip of her nose tickled the petals as she sniffed them. “Come in. I’ll just put these in some water and we’ll go.”

Konan turned back in the direction of the kitchen, her heels clicking against the floor. Hidan was left in the hallway with Nagato glaring at him.

“She can do better than you,” Nagato glowered.

“What, like you?” asked Hidan. He lowered himself down so that he and Nagato were face-to-face. “I know exactly what you’re up to. I know why you want a female carer. Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid.”

Nagato stared at Hidan, mortified.

“Oh, did I just hit a nerve there?” taunted Hidan. “It’s because it’s true, isn’t it?”

“That’s not it at all. I’m not like that. I don’t want some person I’ve never met touching me,” muttered Nagato. He glanced back up at Hidan. “Can’t you understand that?”

Konan reappeared in the doorway.

“I’m ready,” she announced. She made her way back down the hallway, and then knelt down to Nagato. “Your pizza will be here in ten minutes. Wait here so you can reach the door. There’s a cake from Itachi in the fridge if you want it. Is there anything you need before I go?”

Nagato reached up, and wrapped his arms around her neck. Konan made a noise of surprise, but then hugged him back.

“You’ll be ok,” assured Konan. “Netflix is all set up on the television. You’ll have a nice evening.”

“Hmph,” scoffed Nagato. Hidan watched as Konan wavered, and inwardly sent several pleas her way not to fall for Nagato’s apathetic act.

But Konan straightened up, and then turned back to Hidan. “Shall we go?”

Hidan wrapped his arm around her waist, putting his middle finger up at Nagato behind Konan’s back, and leading her out the house. He unlocked the car, and opened her car door for her, before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Well, where are we going?” asked Konan.

“It’s a surprise,” replied Hidan.

“A surprise?”

“A surprise,” confirmed Hidan. He strapped on his seatbelt, and made sure Konan had strapped on hers. He pressed his foot against the clutch, slipped the car into first gear, found the biting point, glanced around his blind spots, before releasing the handbrake and moving off the clutch.

He drove ahead up the road, pressing on the gas pedal, switching into second gear, before slowing at the end of the road. He turned the corner, put the car back into second gear, and then into third, heading towards the dual carriageway out of town.

“Are we going somewhere fancy?” asked Konan.

“Wait and see,” said Hidan. He remembered the last time he’d driven on the dual carriageway, with Deidara and his condom. He nearly smiled, but held it back, deciding that anymore talk of condoms this evening was enough. For now, he simply wanted to savour this evening with Konan, with no bars between them.

“Are we going out of town?”

“Nearly there,” replied Hidan.

Konan reclined back against the seat, her heels pushing against the foot rest. Her expression changed, and Hidan could see her thinking. He turned his attention back to the road, as the car emerged from the slip road and onto the dual carriageway. He pressed against the gas pedal, skipping forth gear and going straight to fifth.

As he emerged onto the new road, he glanced in the front mirror, and caught a glimpse of Konan. He wondered how much effort Konan must have taken with her appearance tonight. Whenever he looked at her, he always thought that she must have made plenty of effort in her appearance, and Hidan knew how long it took him to ready himself. Tonight, she smouldered away before his very eyes. Those shoes, the way she walked, so confidently, so effortlessly…and then that dress, the way the dark fabric popped against her glowing skin, the way it clung to the contours of her body, and then those eyes, those beautiful smoking eyes.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, concentrating on the road.

“Are we going to the next town over?” asked Konan.

“Warm,” said Hidan.

The next thing he knew, Konan’s hand had landed on his upper thigh, and gently stroked a rhythm back and forth.

“Where are we going?” asked Konan.

Hidan flustered, and fought for a response. “I’m…I’m driving! S-stop that…”

Konan smiled, gazing ahead through the windscreen. The tip of her littlest finger lightly brushed against his groin. “Where are we going, Hidan?”

Hidan muffled a gasp, and quickly glanced down. Her hand remained on his thigh, and he was sure he must have imagined it, but the vibrations from her touch still rocked through him.

“We’re going to a restaurant,” he admitted.

“Which?”

“A nice one,” said Hidan.

“How elusive,” Konan’s hand worked its way further towards his groin. Now Hidan was pretty sure that two of her fingers brushed against it. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the road and check, as the car in front of his had their brake lights flashing. Hidan lifted his foot away from the accelerator, and felt the car slow, before pressing on the brake lightly.

As his leg moved, he felt Konan’s hand jostle as well. He clamped his eyes on the road, and bit his lip, as three fingers slid down the front of his trousers. He stared around, looking for the junction to come off the dual carriageway. It wasn’t far from here, and Hidan hoped he wouldn’t miss it.

But now Konan’s hand stroked back and forth in a rhythm. Hidan didn’t want her to stop, but knew he couldn’t whilst in control of a vehicle. He wanted to fling himself back, slam on the accelerator and let her jerk him off as she pleased, but knew that would mean a certain death on the road.

Instead he sat upright, and shifted.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” he retorted, only to immediately regret his words. Maybe this was merely a minor flirtation on Konan’s part, and she had no intention of taking anything further. Hidan didn’t want to pressure her, or Jashin forbid, make her uncomfortable.

“I see,” said Konan, moving her hand back to her own lap.

Hidan spotted the junction, and signalled left. He steered the car towards the junction, and began to press on the brakes again, to slow down. He skipped through fourth gear, putting the car into third gear to travel through the residential part of town. As they reached the high street, Hidan slowed down to first, and began crawling through, looking for a parking space. He nose bay-parked in the first space he could find, and then climbed out. Even as he stood up straight and began to walk, Hidan found that his groin still tingled from Konan’s touch, and his trousers were slightly tight. He hoped that no one would notice.

Konan looked incredibly pleased with herself.

“You’re a devious little minx,” taunted Hidan.

“Good,” replied Konan. “Where are we going?”

“This way!” Hidan reached for her hand, and then guided her down the high street.

“Why are we here?”

“You’ll see!” insisted Hidan, as they walked along.

Konan stopped, and then turned to Hidan with an almost stunned expression. “You’re not taking me to-?”

“Oh yes,” said Hidan, practically dancing ahead as they neared the door to the restaurant.

“How did you know this was my favourite?” asked Konan, running on her heels to keep up with him.

Once inside, Hidan greeted the server, and they were guided to a small booth tucked away in a corner. None of the walls had plaster, they were all open grey-green brick and cement. Several candles and torches in brackets on the wall were lit around the restaurant, and in the middle of the room, the chefs cooked over an open fire, so that customers could see their meals being made for them.

It wasn’t Hidan’s kind of place, but he could see why Konan liked it. He would have happily marched down the first steakhouse he could find, but he wasn’t sure if Konan would appreciate that. They ordered drinks, and then Hidan reached across the table for Konan’s hand. He liked the way her fingers felt, tucked beneath his.

“What do you want for dinner?” asked Hidan.

“It’s an easy decision,” Konan flipped open the menu. “Flame-broiled fish. I’ll probably order it with roasted asparagus and long-stemmed broccoli.”

Hidan flicked through, looking for any meat dishes. “What do you think I’d like?”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“Spare ribs,” he replied.

“They don’t have any of these here,” Konan scanned the menu.

“That’s ok. I’ll try something new,” Hidan went back to scanning the menu again. There were a few chicken dishes and some burgers, but nothing really appealed to him.

“I really like the way they do vegetables here – why are you wrinkling your nose like that?” asked Konan.

“I hate vegetables,” admitted Hidan.

“How can you hate vegetables?”

“They’re rotten. They taste like dirt.”

Konan openly laughed. “You’re just like a little kid, not wanting to eat his greens. They’re good for you!”

“I don’t care how good they are for you, they taste rank!”

“Then how do you get your vitamins?”

“Fruit!”

Konan shook her head fondly. “Well, maybe I’ll let you try some of my asparagus.”

Hidan wrinkled his nose again. “I’ll have the same as you.”

Konan gave him an amused glance. “Are you sure? Do you like fish?”

“I don’t eat it that much, but I’ll give it a try,” replied Hidan, as their waiter arrived. They gave their orders, and then waited in the candlelight, still hand in hand. Hidan simply couldn’t take his eyes from Konan. In the dim candlelit room, she seemed to smoulder before him, her appearance mesmerizing him. This may not have been his choice of restaurant, but it was worth it, simply to see Konan like this.

Their wine arrived, and Hidan made sure to pour himself a careful measurement so that he could drive home later. The rest of the bottle he offered to Konan.

“I’m not going to drink all of that,” replied Konan.

“Put the bottle in your handbag,” suggested Hidan. “That’s what Kakuzu does whenever he goes out for dinner. He says its cheaper than buying glasses of wine.”

Konan gave him another amused glance. “I’ve brought a clutch bag.”

“Well, shove it up your dress then.”

“It’s a bodycon dress, silly. You can see everything underneath it.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I’ll hide it up my shirt,” suggested Hidan. “Then we can finish it at home.”

“At home?” Konan tilted her head. “You’ve already made plans for how the evening ends?”

“You started it,” warned Hidan. He slid his foot under the table and then gently caressed hers. “Back in the car. Don’t start what you can’t handle.”

“I can handle you well enough,” Konan gazed down at him, with a knowing smirk on her lips. Hidan was forced to concede, knowing that Konan was right.

Their meals arrived; a momentary distraction from their flirtation. Hidan felt his heart almost melt at Konan’s expression when the flame-broiled fish was laid down in front of her.

“Is it your favourite?” he asked.

Konan nodded.

“For how long?”

“Oh, since I was a kid,” explained Konan, sipping at her wine. “I was…I was in a children’s home for a while. That was where I met Yahiko, and then Nagato. We were…we were fostered by a man called Jiraiya, and one summer he took us on holiday, and it was one of the things we tried. It was so different to everything I’d had before…frozen food, canteen food, it was so fresh. And since then it’s been my favourite because of all the memories it brings back.”

“You were a foster kid?”

“That’s right.”

Hidan suddenly remembered their first conversation, back at the hut, when he’d asked if her mother was proud of the origami she had gone on to make. Suddenly, he felt bad for his intrusive and insensitive questioning. But it all made sense, if she was a foster child, why she was so strongly bonded to Nagato. Maybe Nagato was all she had.

“Do you still see Jiraiya?” asked Hidan.

“We had to leave when we were sixteen,” replied Konan. “Because we were considered old enough to take care of ourselves. One of Jiraiya’s other fostered kids was having a baby so his attention went there. Naruto, they called him. He’s friends with Itachi’s younger brother. But yes, we stayed in contact, I still saw him as my dad, even though Nagato claimed that he threw us out.”

“Do you see him now?”

“Not for ages,” Konan leant her head on folded hands, deep in thought. Her expression turned melancholic, and she picked up her knife and fork, slicing her asparagus. “I did ask Nagato if we should invite him round for dinner, but he was against the idea. Anyway, aren’t you going to…?”

“Oh, right! Yes,” Hidan turned back to his dinner, and started to cut up his vegetables. Their green hue stared unappetisingly back up at him.

“What’s the matter?” asked Konan. She gave a playful smile. “How about…if you eat all of your greens, then you can have dessert?”

“What’s for dessert?”

“It’s a surprise,” Konan settled back against her seat, one of her hands resting against her upper thigh. She gave another playful smile, stabbed a piece of asparagus, and then held it out to Hidan on her fork. “Try it! It’s nice!”

Hidan groaned. “Ugh! Fine!”

He opened his mouth, and let her feed him.

“There!” said Konan triumphantly. “How’s that?”

Hidan chewed. “It’s ok.”

“See?”

“I’d rather have spare ribs though!”

Hidan managed to clear his plate of vegetables, before chewing the fish. He watched as Konan delicately and neatly cut her food into small pieces, before spooning it onto her fork and taking a bite. For her melancholic expression earlier, there was now an almost nostalgic smile on her lips.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Konan reached back across the table, and took his hand back in hers.

“Thanks for coming.”

“The last time I came here, I came with Sasori,” admitted Konan. “And he brought one of his puppet things and propped it up in the chair next to us.”

“He brought a puppet to a restaurant?” repeated Hidan.

“That’s right,” said Konan. “There was an art marketplace down the road from here, and I was selling some of my origami. And then he suggested we get dinner, and instead of leaving it in the car, he brought it with us.”

“That is weird.”

“He means well,” said Konan. “Even if he is a little odd. I enjoy going out to dinner and events with him.”

“Have you…been on many dates before?” Hidan asked curiously.

Konan gave him an amused look. “With Sasori or in general?”

“Either, or,” Hidan waved his hand.

“With Sasori they’re strictly platonic,” explained Konan. “But other than him, a few. But no one serious.”

“What were they like?”

Konan leant further forwards, a glint in her amber eyes. “Are you jealous, Hidan?”

“No!” Hidan replied quickly. “Just curious.”

Konan reclined back in her chair, and gave him a sly smile. “Over the years I’ve indulged in a few affairs with some handsome men…and beautiful ladies.”

Hidan nearly snorted his entire glassful of wine in her face. “ _Ladies_?”

“Why is that strange, Hidan?” asked Konan.

“You’ve slept with women?” he repeated.

“That’s right.”

“How many women have you been with?” Hidan blurted out. He simply couldn’t help himself. The thought of Konan locked in a passionate embrace with another woman burnt itself onto his mind.

Konan gave him another amused look. “More than you.”

“What?” Hidan demanded, as his cheeks tinged red. “Who told you _that_?”

“Deidara warned me to be gentle with you,” replied Konan.

Hidan blushed a further red. “I’m going to strangle him with his hair!”

They were interrupted, as the waiter brought over a desserts menu. They scanned it, before eventually settling on coffee.

“I had no idea you liked…” Hidan trailed off.

“Do you like men, then?” asked Konan bluntly.

“Me? With men?” Hidan pretended to cringe, but then he sighed. “I made out with Deidara once when an old perv was hitting on him a bar and pretended he was my boyfriend. But the most I’ve seen was when I accidently burst in on Kakuzu in the shower and that gave me nightmares.”

“Did it really?”

“Yes!” insisted Hidan. “It was traumatic! He’s old!”

“I thought men grew better with age,” taunted Konan.

“Stop it!” Hidan burned with embarrassment. “All right…he has nice muscles under his old man clothes and he’s pretty hung, I’ll give him that.”

Their coffees were laid down in front of them. Konan poured in some milk, and gave it a thorough stir. “Why haven’t you had many relationships?”

“I don’t know,” Hidan admitted again, as he accepted the milk from Konan, and poured it into his cup. He wondered whether or not he should bare his soul before her, lay himself and his insecurities raw before this woman, but realised she had done the same thing barely minutes ago for him when she discussed her childhood. “I suppose…I suppose its because I scare people off. I’m weird. I have weird interests and I say weird things, and people get put off by that. No one wants to date a guy who rants about Jashin all the time.”

“Why not?”

“Because apparently my religion is weird and they don’t want to hear about it,” explained Hidan. “The people at uni…they’d take one look at the way I looked, and I was good enough to be in their selfies and their Instagram feed, but not good enough to talk to.”

“I enjoy talking to you.”

Hidan gave a wolfish grin and drained the rest of his coffee. “I know.”

Once they finished their coffees, Hidan hid the bottle of wine up his shirt and then paid the bill. He wrapped his arm around Konan as they walked back down the darkened streets.

“Where next?” asked Konan.

“You said you hadn’t been clubbing in nearly ten years,” said Hidan. “So that’s the next stop.”

“We’re going clubbing?”

“That’s right!”

“With a random wine bottle?”

“It saves us buying drinks in there,” replied Hidan. “Come on!”

He grabbed her hand, and then ran with her down the road. Konan’s heels clacked against the pavement, and soon they were outside of the local club. There were crowds of people waiting outside, and so they got into the queue. Waiting outside, the buzz and the vibe from the people waiting to go in was infectious.

Once inside the club, the beat thumped under their feet, and the drumming of the music thrummed through their very cores. Hidan pulled Konan closer to him as they moved through the crowd. He felt Konan grab the front of his shirt and hold him close, as they swayed to the beat of the music. As far as either of them were concerned, the other people in the club simply didn’t exist, and this was their own private party. In the pulsating crowd of bodies, they could do what they pleased.

Konan’s hands moved around his waist, before giving the cheeks of his ass a pinch. She gave him a wicked look, and Hidan knew what it meant. There was only one thing it could mean.

He twisted her around, and gripped her hips tightly. He grinded against her as they danced to some generic beat, and he could smell the traces of her perfume and her shampoo even over the stench of sweat from the rest of the crowd.

His hands roamed over her figure, from the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, then back down again, giving her a squeeze.

“I want to take you home with me,” Konan tilted her head up to murmur in his ear.

“You do?” he asked, barely able to believe his ears. “You do?”

Her amber eyes were feral. “I want you.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Hidan.

She turned around, and placed a long, lingering and passionate kiss on his lips.

“Let’s go,” commanded Konan.

They made their way back through the crowds, the music still ringing in their ears, the now empty wine bottle lying on a forgotten table somewhere. Hidan grabbed her hand, and then they were running, back to the car. Konan clamoured in the front passenger seat, and Hidan clamoured into the driver’s seat. He felt her reach for him, pulling him over towards her and claiming his lips beneath hers.

“I have to drive,” Hidan flustered under her touch.

Konan released him and settled back in her seat. “Then drive.”

Shakily, Hidan slipped his keys in the ignition, and then pressed on the clutch, putting the car in reverse and leaving the bay. Changing the car into first gear, he drove through the car park, his thoughts racing. Only one thought was on his mind, and that was getting back to Konan’s as quickly as possible.

The roads were empty at this time of night, and Hidan easily put the car into fifth gear as soon as he reached the dual carriageway, speeding up to seventy miles per hour. In the road lamps, Konan’s face glowed orange, then silver in the moonlight, then orange again.

Outside of her place, Hidan quietly parked the car, and switched off the ignition. He turned back to look at Konan.

“Now,” she commanded. One hand reached out and pulled him over to her again, reclaiming his lips, before she released him. “Let’s go inside. But quietly now, because Nagato will be sleeping.”

They climbed out the car, and Hidan followed Konan to the front door, where she slipped the key in the lock silently, and then they crept in.

The house was spotless, and there was no sign of Nagato.

“In here,” Konan guided Hidan into the living room. She pushed him down onto the sofa. “Sit.”

“Why am I sitting here?” asked Hidan.

Konan crept closer towards him, her fingertips running down her body to the hem of her dress. Gently, she started to lift it, exposing more of her slender thighs.

“You do the rest,” she ordered.

Hidan’s hands slide up, pushing up her dress to over her waist, to reveal a pair of black lace Brazilian cut knickers. _Perfect,_ he thought to himself. Her tastes in underwear were exactly as he imagined.

“Take them off,” she ordered again.

“Now?”

“Now,” confirmed Konan.

Hidan’s fingers hooked under the lace, and gently he pulled them down, sliding them down her thighs. Konan was completely waxed, and her bare skin glowed in the dim moonlight filtering in through the grey curtains. Hidan wasn’t surprised, as he remembered seeing the waxing strips in her cabinet all those weeks ago. But what almost did surprise him was the little diamond that winked teasingly from between the folds of her pussy.

“Midori wasn’t lying when she said you were pierced everywhere,” he murmured, as he lightly brushed across it with his thumb.

Konan laughed softly. “This is my favourite.”

“It’s beautiful,” complimented Hidan. He gazed up at her. “You’re beautiful, Konan.”

“Kiss me,” ordered Konan.

“What, here?” asked Hidan, gesturing to her exposed intimate skin.

“That’s right. There. Kiss me.”

Hidan leant forwards, and kissed the smooth cushioned skin. It felt soft under his lips, and so he kissed it again, and again.

“That’s it,” murmured Konan. One hand reached out and laid on his head. “Good boy. Now…further down.”

Hidan obeyed, gently kissed the diamond, and then laying his lips across the fold as he travelled down. His tongue slipped out, and slide between the fold, giving a teasing lick.

A moan escaped from Konan’s lips. “That’s right…again…”

Hidan repeated the movement again, and then Konan parted her legs further, so that she spread herself open for him. He could see the luscious deeper pink folds of her pussy, and desire burnt through him. He perched on the edge of the sofa, bracing himself holding his hands on her legs. Her fingers wove through his hair, as he started to lick back and forth. Konan tasted…slightly salty. Like his lips did whenever he walked along the beach during a windy day, and flecks of the sea skimmed across the shore and landed on his face. Like the day they had met.

But she tasted sweet too. It was a salty-sweet kind of tang. Even though he had never done this to a woman before, if the look on Konan’s face was anything to go by, Hidan was certain that he was already doing a good job. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed, the lashes fluttering, her lips parted, the lower lip gently wobbling.

“That’s nice…that’s so nice…”

Hidan pressed his tongue more firmly against her clit, rubbing it in a circle. Konan moaned, even more loudly, and pressed his face more firmly between her legs.

“Oh god…” she whimpered.

Hidan was now determined to make her come. He rapidly increased the pace of the movements of his tongue, and was rewarded with another loud moan. He wondered briefly on what Nagato would think if he were to hear them, or if he were to wheel himself past the open door. The thought amused him, and he sniggered, even as his tongue lapped over Konan’s clit. He alternated his movements, going from lapping his tongue over her clit, to rubbing his tongue in a circle.

Konan’s breathes became as heavy as her moans. She alternated between quick gasps of air, then a moan, and a few more gasps. Hidan felt her legs quiver beneath him, and guessed that she must be close. He increased his movements, his hands holding her firmly in place, and then Konan tilted her head back and gave a loud cry.

Hidan felt a gush of water slicken his tongue, and then recalling the odd pornography that he and Deidara had stumbled across and giggled at, realised that he’d made her squirt. Konan wavered on her legs, her hands resting on Hidan’s shoulders for support.

“How was that?” asked Hidan, moving one of his hands to wipe the back of his mouth.

Konan was speechless for a moment, and then she nodded, patting one of his shoulders for emphasis. “That was nice. Good boy.”

Hidan’s heart raced, as he realised what was coming next. He stared back up at Konan, as she knelt down, slipped off her heels, and then reached for him. She unbuttoned his shirt, climbing further up onto the sofa with each unfastened button to straddle him. Her hands stroked along his biceps, pulling off his shirt and tossing it across the room. Konan’s eyes seemed to widen appreciatively. Then she reached behind her, unzipped her dress, and tugged it over her dainty white shoulders.

“Wow…” Hidan stared at her naked figure kneeling over him. Her breasts were round and even, with pale pink nipples that protruded. Both of her nipples were pierced, and the diamond studs winked at him. Her naval had an even more interesting and unusual piercing, of four blue diamonds either side of her naval. He reached up, and gently ran his thumb across one. “What are these?”

“Dermal implants,” explained Konan, touching the piercing he had looked at. “Do you like them?”

“They suit you,” nodded Hidan. He stared at her naked form again. “You’re such a beautiful woman.”

Konan leant down, and kissed him deeply on the lips. She tasted of the wine she’d been drinking, and Hidan supposed he tasted of her now. Her hands roamed across his chest, brushing against his fresh nipple piercing, and then touching his abdomen, feeling the defined muscles beneath his smooth skin. Then her hand was at his trousers, deftly unbuckling the top button and pulling down the zip. Hidan’s mouth went dry, as he felt her hand slide inside his pants and take him firmly, rubbing back and forth.

“Oh Jashin,” he whimpered. He wanted to hold onto something, and so he reached up, clasping Konan’s hips for support. She glanced down at him, and Hidan supposed he must look a mess. He could feel his hot cheeks throbbing, and knew that his hair was mussed from her hands. Konan pushed him to the left, so that they stretched out lengthways on the sofa. He lay beneath her, gazing up, and watching her every move with half-lidded eyes.

Konan pulled him back into a kiss as her hands tugged his trousers down his waist. She released him, and then he watched her pull them off, pull off his shoes and socks, and then return for his underwear.

“Calvin Klein, nice,” she noted.

Her hands laid on the waistband.

Hidan’s breath hitched.

Konan yanked them down, and his erection sprung free.

“Is this all for me?” asked Konan. Her hand dipped down, and started to stroke it back and forth. Her touch was experienced, and the look in her eyes was knowing.

“N…no one else,” panted Hidan.

“Good. You’re mine,” announced Konan.

Hidan’s chest heaved, watching her lovely hands work back and forth on him. He liked the way his dick looked wrapped in those small slender hands. He almost wanted to laugh, remembering all the times that he had watched her fold paper before him. It seemed fitting that she could…do this just as well.

Konan laid her hand on his chin and tilted his gaze to look at her. “Are you ready for me?”

Hidan nodded.

Konan straddled over his hips, and then took him inside her. Hidan felt the warm, tight walls of her body clench around him, and nearly came simply from the shock of it. But he gritted his teeth, and rode through the pleasure.

Konan flexed her hips, lightly thrusting back and forth. Her expression was smooth and impassive, for now, but there was a fire burning at the back of her eyes. Hidan closed his eyes, feeling a tingling sensation all over his groin, that simmered with each of her movements. Konan began to pick up the pace, and as Hidan opened his eyes again, he watched that gorgeous body flex, watched her piercings sparkling in the low light, and her breasts bounce temptingly.

Sensing his ever-heightening arrival, Konan’s pace increased yet again, and before Hidan knew it, she was riding him with a determined glint in her eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders as she supported herself upright, and then after one particularly strong thrust, she released her hands from his shoulders, tilting backwards and resting her hands on his thighs, confidently displaying herself in full view. The bouncing of her breasts as she thrusted was ever more apparent now, and Hidan couldn’t resist sliding his hands up her body, capturing them in his hold and caressing them. They felt firm, yet perfectly soft, yielding beneath his touch.

Then Konan leant forwards again, pulling him into another kiss. Her hips stopped, as they both took a moment to recapture their breath. And then she was moving again, leaning over him, and this time, Hidan knew she had every intention of making him come. He was hers to do with as she pleased, and he gave into it. He felt the tingling in his groin begin to explode, like a series of fireworks, and then his release exploded out of him, coating her insides.

Hidan whimpered, and his whole body went limp. He lay collapsed against the sofa, trying to get his breath back.

Konan slipped free of him, but then crawled over him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and curling up on top of his body. Her hand caressed his cheek, and Hidan turned his head to look at her.

“How did you like that, baby?” she murmured in his ear lowly. Hidan found he quite liked the endearment.

“A…amazing…” Hidan croaked.

Konan gave a satisfied smirk. “Good.”

Hidan reached up for a spare blanket throw that was folded up on the back of the sofa, and then pulled it over them both.

“I’m tired now, babe,” he murmured into her ear. “So tired.”

Konan couldn’t resist a small giggle. “Have I worn you out?”

“Yes,” he chuckled sleepily, before giving her a clumsy forehead kiss.

“Sleep now,” urged Konan.

“Stay with me,” Hidan whined, clutching her closer.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” assured Konan.

Hidan felt Konan snuggle into his arms, and he tucked the blanket over their shoulders. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her perfume and listening to steady rise and fall of her breathing as they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well...I hope you all enjoyed the sex! isn't Konan a complete queen? Hidan should consider himself a very lucky man!


	8. Silver Wedding Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's morning after, and Hidan and Konan wake up in each other's arms...to find Nagato staring at them, leading to a much needed confrontation. Meanwhile, Fugaku and Mikoto celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary and everyone is invited. Shisui gets them a completely inappropriate present, whilst Konan is confronted by Obito.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest and my favourite chapter of all of them! I had so much fun including more of the cast in this chapter and adapting them for a modern au, especially sexy single dad Kisame with his adorable baby Shizuma. omg I want to marry him and be Shizuma's mum.
> 
> also...Shisui plays a dreadful prank on Itachi and the rest of his family XD I laughed so hard writing it! XD
> 
> as a heads up, there is also mentions of ableism in this chapter, such as in the argument between Konan, Nagato and Hidan. I want to make it clear that whilst Nagato's emotions surrounding his disability and feelings are valid, his behaviour and treatment of Konan is not. there is more explicit ableism in the conversation with Obito later on in the chapter.  
> as well as this, there is also mentions of racism and homophobia that Itachi faced whilst attending Cambridge, I apologise if anyone finds any of these mentions upsetting.
> 
> Oh! There is also a shoutout to my girl Shadow, with a cameo of her beautiful OC! See if you can spot her and guess who she is! <3 if you want extra clues, check out her blog konohagakureship on tumblr XD love you Shadow! <3

When Konan awoke, the first thing she could think of was that she felt warm. There was a warm body beneath her, she could hear the soft drumming of his heartbeat, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, as his arms held her safely in an embrace.

For the first time in a long time, Konan felt secure, and very loved.

She snuggled closer to Hidan. Her body ached, but pleasantly. There were still tingles throughout her loins and she knew she was still aroused from their previous activities, but for now, Konan was content to lie in Hidan’s arms and listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, and nuzzle her face against his neck, inhaling his scent.

“You slut!”

Both Konan and Hidan jolted fully awake, to discover Nagato sitting in the doorway in his chair. He stared at her with a mixture of horror, disgust and betrayal written all over his face.

“You slept with _him_!” Nagato shrieked. “You slept with _him_?”

Konan glanced around the room, at where hers and Hidan’s clothes lay strewn across the floor. The whole scene was so incredibly incriminating that there was no denying what had taken place the previous night.

“What’s the fucking problem?” demanded Hidan, sitting upright.

Konan grabbed the blanket, trying desperately to cover herself. Hidan sat upright, moving Konan off his lap. She wrapped herself more firmly in the blanket whilst Hidan reached for his boxers and pulled them up over his hips.

“You whore!” Nagato accused, jabbing a finger towards the ashes on the mantelpiece. “You had sex with him on our sofa, in our house, right in front of your husband!”

 “That’s not Yahiko, Nagato, and you know it,” said Konan steadily.

“His ashes! That’s him!” insisted Nagato.

“It’s not him! He’s gone!” yelled Konan.

Hidan stared at her, impressed. Nagato stared back, a look of sheer and utter devastation across his face.

“And why is he gone?” asked Nagato, almost triumphantly as he pulled out his trump card. “Why is Yahiko gone, Konan?”

Konan felt her shoulders involuntarily clench. She felt that shrinking inside of herself, where she almost wanted to curl up inside of herself and hide from the world. Her neck bend as she lowered her head, her eyes fell to the ground, ashamed.

“What happened?” demanded Hidan, his harsh voice bringing Konan back out of herself and into the moment. “What happened to Yahiko? Why do you two live like this?”

“Oh, your new dick wants to know,” taunted Nagato.

“Don’t call Hidan a dick, Nagato, that’s uncalled for,” Konan scolded quietly, laying her hand behind her, resting on Hidan’s wrist. With any luck, her touch would calm Hidan from flying across the room and punching Nagato.

“But that’s what he is. Just a dick,” Nagato gleefully carried on. “Why don’t you tell him? It’s your finest moment!”

“Just shut up!” screamed Konan, surprising herself.

Nagato leant back in his chair, stunned.

“I can’t bear it, I can’t bear it!” Konan howled. She wrapped the blanket around her naked shoulders more closely. “I suffer enough everyday without _you_ making it worse!”

“Konan,” Hidan put his hand on her shoulder. The way he said her name was particularly soft. His hand was gentle, rooting her back into the room as the memories flashed before her very eyes.

“Tell him,” taunted Nagato. “Tell him and see if he’ll want you now.”

“You shut your mouth,” ordered Hidan. “You’ve done enough.”

Konan felt his fingers entwine with her hair. She inclined her head towards him, so that his fingers trailed down her neck. Finally, she found her voice, so she could speak.

“My husband died in an accident,” she admitted. “I had an admin job in a company based in a business park out of town. I had to walk a mile or two to get there and back. We only had one car between the three of us. Usually we’d try to drive to work together and then collect each other, but that evening I had to work late. It had been raining all day. I told Yahiko and Nagato to go home without me.”

“Then what?” goaded Nagato. “Then what?”

“I finished my work, and it was still raining,” Konan sighed heavily. “I didn’t want to walk.”

“If only you had,” Nagato continued. “If only you had.”

“I called Yahiko and pestered him to come and get me.”

“And?” asked Hidan. “No one wants to walk two miles in the rain. I don’t want to walk two miles in the rain.”

“Then what, Konan?” asked Nagato. “What happened when we were driving?”

“The rain…it made the road slippery. There was a man who worked nearby in a separate business to the one I did…Hanzo.”

“What did Hanzo do, Konan?” asked Nagato, louder. “What did he do?”

“He’d been drinking in his office because his business was going bust.”

“No…” groaned Hidan.

“Yahiko was driving quickly because he wanted to get to her,” said Nagato. “But he was watching the road. So was I. We were always careful. But Hanzo wasn’t. He slammed into us. Crept up on us without us even realising. Both of our cars smashed. I was trapped. Crippled. Yahiko…he was a mess. I had to sit there with his dying body next to me. I held his hand. Heard his last words. Then he was too weak to talk. There was nothing the paramedics could do, apart from cut me free. And then I nearly died on an operating table. And all because Angel here couldn’t be bothered to walk home in the rain.”

“You fucker!” cursed Hidan. “You manipulative fucking…cunt! That is not her fault!”

Konan stared at him, stunned.

Truthfully, she had not opened up to a single soul about the circumstances of Yahiko’s death. Not to any of her friends. Not even Itachi or Sasori. No one knew about it. The only person who did was Nagato. And now, listening to another person share her painful story, absolve her of the guilt, see it from her perspective…

It brought a strange new light to the way she viewed the accident.

It wasn’t her fault.

Nagato was sad and bitter.

And he had used her to take out his frustrations.

_It wasn’t her fault._

It was Hanzo’s.

And all these years, these years of caring for Nagato, putting up with his moods and his rants, when she could have been enjoying her life, like Yahiko would have wanted, she had wasted on him.

_She had wasted ten years of her life._

And it all built up and up and up, swelling inside her, until Konan knew she couldn’t take it anymore. It was now or never. She had to say the thoughts that had dwelled at the back of her mind for so long, that waited and waited so long to be voiced.

“This isn’t a life, Nagato!” announced Konan. “This isn’t what Yahiko would want for us. Either of us! He would want us to keep on living. I want to enjoy what I have.”

“Oh, but you can!” Nagato spat. “You can walk! People don’t look at you like a spastic!”

“People do not look at you like a spastic! You’re paranoid!” shouted Konan. “Most people are understanding…yes, I know the way disabled people are treated in society isn’t perfect, but there are things that people are doing to help and change things! You just moan about them and criticise them, but never bother involving yourself and actually doing anything, when you could be the best voice of reason there is! You just enjoy being miserable!”

“I don’t enjoy being miserable!” Nagato argued back. “I want to be happy again, I want my friend back!”

“He’s not coming back!” Konan yelled, pointing a finger at the urn. “And I’m getting rid of that!”

“No!” Nagato insisted. “No!”

“It’s horrible! I hate it!” Konan shouted. “I hate having his ashes in my house! It’s like we’re keeping him on display like some sort of _shrine!_ Yahiko has no dignity in death!”

“I can’t get rid of him!” howled Nagato.

“It’s not your choice to make! I was his wife! I was his next of kin!” Konan growled with frustration, and then tugged at her hair. “I am so, so sick of this! I am so sick of this life! I am burnt out, I am tired and you are just so ungrateful, you don’t even care what I give up to do for you, and I can’t even look at you some days because you make me feel so bad!”

But now Konan forced herself to look at Nagato. Forced herself to tower over him, even as she was wrapped in just a blanket. Nagato went very quiet.

“You either change the way you treat me,” said Konan quietly. “Or you lose me as a friend forever.”

Nagato continued to stare at her.

“I’m getting rid of the ashes,” said Konan firmly. “I’m going to call Jiraiya over, and we’ll have dinner, and then we’re going to go out and scatter them over the cliffs.”

“What, now?” asked Nagato. His face blanched an even whiter shade of pale with horror.

“No, not now!” Konan shook her head. “Itachi’s parents’ party is today. I’ll do it sometime in the week.”

“So now you’re leaving me to go to a party?” asked Nagato, colour returning as he resumed his usual barrage of retorts. “See, there you are, carrying on with your life and going to parties, while I’m stuck at home!”

“You’re coming to the party as well,” decided Konan.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Itachi invited you. It’s polite to accept his invitation.”

“I hate parties,” said Nagato.

“Tough.”

“I hate people.”

“Well, you live on a planet full of them,” Konan folded her arms. “And you need to get used to them. I’m going to get dressed. You will dress yourself today. Then we are going to the party, and we will have a lovely time. Do you understand?”

“You can’t make me go to a party,” insisted Nagato.

“I can, and I will. You need to talk to other people besides me.” At that, she bent down, snatched up hers and Hidan’s clothes from the floor, before turning to him. “I’m sorry you had to see this, Hidan.”

“It’s ok,” Hidan’s eyes were surprisingly full of concern.

“I’ll freshen up your clothes for you, and then I’ll get them dried and ironed before the party if you want to wear them again. They looked nice on you last night.”

“Thank you.”

“If you want a shower, you know where my bathroom is,” said Konan. “Go upstairs and put my dressing gown on, then bring me your underwear and I’ll get that washed as well.”

Hidan did as instructed, leaving Konan with Nagato. Nagato just stared at her. Konan turned away, heading in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on.”

She stuck hers and Hidan’s clothes into the washing machine, adding his boxers when he brought them down for her, added some detergent and conditioner, then set it to wash for half an hour. Outside promised to be a warm day, and so she knew that the clothes would dry quickly once they were out on the washing line. Whilst in the kitchen, she flicked on the kettle, made up a coffee for Hidan and herself to sip whilst at the table, and then threw away the remains of Nagato’s dinner. She washed up his plates from last night, then automatically began to lay out some breakfast things. On the stove, she began preparing porridge, as she knew Nagato needed to put some weight on. The washing machine clicked to a finish.

“All done. You go and get the hot water up in the shower,” instructed Konan. She grabbed Hidan’s clothes, taking them outside and hanging them straight up in the sunshine.

Back inside, Nagato sat glowering at the table now that Hidan had left. Konan laid a bowl of porridge in front of him, and then a mug of coffee.

“Eat that,” she commanded. “You need to put weight on.”

Nagato stirred the porridge with his spoon, but Konan ignored him, heading upstairs. Once out of sight of Nagato at the top of the stairs, she dropped the blanket, and slid into the bathroom. The shower was already running, and Hidan stood underneath the gushing water. Droplets of water rushed down his skin, clinging to his muscles, but Konan wasn’t in the mood for such thoughts, considering the row that had just happened.

“Can I join you?” she asked, peeling back the shower curtain.

“Sure,” said Hidan, shuffling aside so she could slip inside.

Together, they stood underneath the warm water, allowing it to soothe their aching muscles from the night on the sofa.

“I should have brought us up to my room,” said Konan, running water through her hair with her hand. “My bed’s bigger…and we would have had more privacy.”

“I think it needed to happen,” said Hidan, rubbing the back of his head and rinsing away yesterday’s hair gel. “I think you needed to say what you said to Nagato.”

“I feel so bad,” admitted Konan. “But another part of me…and this sounds terrible…another part of me doesn’t even give a shit. I’ve just _had enough_.”

“Nagato doesn’t give a shit about talking shit to you,” said Hidan. “Don’t feel bad.”

“I’m so angry,” Konan vented. She clenched her fist and then pounded it against the wet tiled wall in quick succession. “I’m so angry…I never spoke to anyone about what happened…all these years…so many years…wasted.”

“Not wasted,” Hidan shook his head. “You’ve done well for yourself. You started a business from scratch. You’re the representative of a committee.”

Konan stared into the steam gathering on the tiles. She reached for her shampoo, and rigorously massaged it into her scalp, before leaning up and rubbing some into Hidan’s hair. She watched him shiver with delight under her touch. Beneath the water, they reclined back, allowing the water to wash away the suds. Konan reached for the conditioner, smoothing it into her hair and then Hidan’s. His hair felt surprisingly soft without the gel.

In her room, Konan selected a navy summer dress with a tiered skirt and a pair of espadrille wedge heels. She opened the window to let the steam out, and then watched as Hidan towel dried his hair in her mirror, and then set back his hair with her hairspray. He wrapped himself back in her dressing gown, and laid back on her bed as he watched her do her makeup for the day.

Strangely, he looked very at home there.

“Your clothes will be done soon,” said Konan, adding the final layer of mascara and then running a comb through her hair.

“Thanks,” Hidan gave her an adorably enthusiastic grin.

_I could get used to this,_ thought Konan.

Downstairs, Nagato still sat at the table.

“I told you to get dressed,” ordered Konan.

“I can’t, I’m too tired,” protested Nagato.

“Want me to help?” offered Hidan. “Since we’re both boys here.”

“I’ll get dressed myself,” muttered Nagato, wheeling himself out of the room. He shot an angry glare at Konan. “But don’t blame me if I fall asleep at the party.”

Konan fetched Hidan’s clothes from the washing line. They had dried in the warm summer heat, and she brought them inside, handing him his underwear before going to fetch the iron and ironing board.

“Maybe I ought to move in here full-time,” suggested Hidan, giving her a cheeky grin. “I get spoiled.”

“This is a one-off,” warned Konan, waving her finger at him. “I fully expect you to wash and iron your own clothes. This is only because I made us late with that stupid row.”

Konan smoothed his shirt out and handed it to him. She ironed his trousers, and then Hidan was dressed and ready to go. Konan knocked on Nagato’s door, and was surprised when he revealed himself to be wearing acceptable party clothes. They hung from his bony frame, but there was nothing offensive about the way he looked.

“I’m only making the effort for Itachi, since he invited me,” stated Nagato. “I still don’t want to come. I hate people.”

“That’s too bad,” Konan dumped a bottle of champagne on his lap. “You can hold that while I write a card.”

“Why do we need a card, we don’t even know Fugaku and Mikoto that well-” Nagato wrinkled his nose.

“It’s polite,” Konan pulled out one of her special folded cards, and then began to scrawl a message inside. “I’ll sign it from all of us.”

“So Hidan now goes inside our personal greeting cards?” scorned Nagato. “You’ve known him for what, a week?”

“Several weeks,” corrected Konan. Nagato went silent, then accepted the card she gave him. Konan grabbed his wheelchair by the handles, and pushed him out of the house, into the sunlight.

“Are we going to walk?” complained Nagato, as he squinted in the sunlight.

“It’s not far,” said Konan. Hidan followed along, and they wandered through the roads of the town. Nagato blinked in the sunlight, shifting whenever anyone looked in their direction. But after a while, he stilled, and allowed Konan to push him.

Once they reached one of the fanciest, nicest roads in the town, Konan stopped, and then glanced at the number plates on the houses. Hidan followed along obediently, until they stood outside. There were large balloons and banners up decorating the outside of the house, including a silver twenty-five helium balloon that floated in the window.

“They have steps leading up to the house,” complained Nagato. “Shall I sit in the front garden all day?”

Konan ignored him and rang the doorbell. Immediately Itachi opened the door.

“Hello!” he greeted. “Welcome to our house.”

“It’s a gorgeous home,” complimented Konan.

“Come in, come in!” Itachi gestured. “Mind out for Shizuma, he’s running wild. He’s a bit excited by all the fuss and attention.”

“Would you mind helping me with Nagato?” asked Konan. “I’ll lift him, if you and Hidan could get his chair over the steps.”

“It’s ok, I’ll lift him! I don’t want you hurting your back,” said Itachi.

“What?” yelped Nagato. Itachi scooped down and picked Nagato up. Nagato wrapped his arms around Itachi’s neck warily, as Itachi carried him up the stairs. Behind, Hidan lifted his chair for him, then laid it down in the entrance of the house. Konan watched them place Nagato back in his chair.

“Unca Tachi!” shrieked Shizuma, running around the corner. In one hand he clutched a cuddly toy shark that was almost as big as he was.

“Hello Shizuma, are you going to come and say hello to our new guests?” Itachi bent down to his godson’s height.

“Hello!” chirped Shizuma, hopping from one foot to the other. “Hello!”

“He’s getting big,” stated Konan.

“This is Nagato, Shizuma. Have you met him before?” asked Itachi.

Shizuma shook his head, black ringlets bouncing.

“He’s Konan’s friend,” explained Itachi. “Are you going to give him a high five?”

“Yes!” nodded Shizuma. He bounced forward, and held out his hand to Nagato.

A small, indulgent smile spread across Nagato’s lips, one that Konan hadn’t seen in years. He held out his grey-white bony hand, and high fived Shizuma.

“Good boy,” Itachi ruffled Shizuma’s mop of black curls. Shizuma bounded out of the room again, the toy shark wobbling above him.

“He’s a cute kid,” stated Nagato.

“He’s Kisame’s,” explained Itachi. “I’m his godfather. Here, let me show you around.”

Itachi led them through the rooms of his parents’ house, waving a hand into each room and explaining what it was. They passed a kitchen, a dining room, Fugaku’s study which was firmly locked, the living room, and the conservatory. Fugaku and Mikoto were obviously house proud, as the rooms were painted white, and were very clean and tidy. And each of the rooms, there were hundreds of family photographs dotted over the walls. Neither Fugaku, Itachi or Sasuke smiled in any of them, they all glowered at the camera like they wanted to stab it. Mikoto, on the other hand, smiled in all of them delightedly. There were a few Japanese decorations, such as ornamental fans, that gave a small display of the Uchiha family heritage.

“Is that you?” asked Hidan, pointing at a picture of Itachi wearing a gown and cape.

“Yes. My graduation,” replied Itachi.

“You went to Cambridge?” gaped Hidan, as he looked closer.

Itachi wrinkled his nose. “I did.”

“Did you like it?” asked Hidan.

“I hated it,” replied Itachi.

“But…you went to _Cambridge_!” repeated Hidan. “Why did you hate it?”

“Because it was far away from home, I missed my brother, I missed Shisui, and I missed Izumi, I was lonely, and it was elitist, and full of racist homophobes who said that I only got in on a diversity ticket,” replied Itachi.

“My course when I got my law degree was full of those types,” added Nagato.

“I did theology,” said Hidan.

“Really?” asked Nagato, wrinkling his nose.

“I’m very religious,” replied Hidan, clenching the pendant that dangled around his neck.

“I suppose if I had to do it over again, I’d probably have gone to the local college and stayed at home,” admitted Itachi. He led them into the living room, where Fugaku and Mikoto themselves stood in the middle of the room, talking to and greeting their guests. Mikoto wore a white formal summer dress, and Fugaku wore a suit.

“Mum, dad, these are some of my friends,” announced Itachi, leading them over. “This is Konan, she’s one of my best customers. She’s an origamist, one of the best in the country. She was ever so supportive when I started my business.”

“Hello Konan,” greeted Mikoto, giving her a kiss on either cheek. “Thank you for coming, Itachi tells me a lot about you.”

“Hello,” greeted Fugaku, shaking her hand.

“This is Hidan, he’s another one of my customers,” said Itachi.

“Not the one who started a food fight?” scowled Fugaku.

“That was Deidara!” barked Hidan.

“No, no, that was Deidara, it’s usually Deidara,” Itachi quickly explained. “And this is Nagato, he’s Konan’s friend and another one of my customers.”

“Good to meet you, Nagato,” Fugaku reached out with his hand for Nagato to shake.

“Thank you for coming,” Mikoto bent down and kissed Nagato on either cheek like she had done to Konan.

“Congratulations on your anniversary,” said Konan.

“Thank you,” said Mikoto, wrapping her arm around Fugaku’s waist. “I think I deserve a medal, but a party will do, don’t you say dear?”

“As you say,” Fugaku agreed. Just then, Sasuke darted past, clutching a can in his hands. Fugaku’s attention immediately fixed on him. “Sasuke! What’s that in your hands?”

“Diet coke!” lied Sasuke, holding it behind his back.

“Put my beer back in the fridge! You are seventeen!” commanded Fugaku.

“But dad! Naruto wants it!” protested Sasuke.

Fugaku frowned. “He’s seventeen as well, he can’t have it either. Put it back!”

Sasuke skulked back to the kitchen with the can of beer. Fugaku and Mikoto turned to greet another few of their guests, while Itachi led Konan, Hidan and Nagato through to the garden.

“This is my Aunt Hazuki, she’s the Head of Obstetrics at the local hospital, my cousin Izumi,” Itachi waved in their direction. “And then out here, here’s some of our friends. Kisame, Dei, Sasori, one of his puppet things-”

“His name is Sandaime,” interrupted Sasori, stroking the puppet’s navy hair.

Hidan turned to Konan. “Is that the one he…?”

“Brought to a restaurant? _Yes_ ,” replied Konan.

“Sorry, Sasori, _Sandaime_ and Kakuzu are here,” said Itachi.

Sasori, his puppet, Kakuzu, Kisame and Deidara sat together around a garden table. Shizuma darted out from behind Kisame’s chair, before clamouring onto his father’s lap. Kisame reached out and wrapped a broad arm around Shizuma tightly.

Itachi excused himself to go and greet some more guests. Konan parked Nagato at the end of the table. Sasori clamoured up and greeted Konan with a kiss on either cheek, and Deidara followed suite. Konan kissed his forehead, and ruffled his blond fringe affectionately, so that Deidara protested playfully. She shook Kakuzu’s hand, and then Kisame gestured to Shizuma squirming in his lap, and gave an apologetic smile.

“Hey old man!” greeted Hidan, trying to hug Kakuzu. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” grunted Kakuzu, shoving Hidan away from him, and sitting back down quickly. Hidan tried to sit on his lap, only for Kakuzu to aim a kick at his shins. Instead, Hidan turned to greet Deidara. They both fist-bumped, and then Deidara leant up and whispered in Hidan’s ear. Hidan turned pink, and elbowed Deidara in the ribs. Deidara squealed, and then sat back down quickly.

“Kisame, he’s getting big!” Konan gestured to Shizuma, as he helped himself to a selection of crisps laid out on a paper plate. “How old is now?”

“Two and a bit,” replied Kisame, giving Shizuma a squeeze. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

“I’m a big boy!” announced Shizuma. He held out a crisp to Konan, with one chubby fist. “Crisp?”

“Thank you Shizuma,” Konan accepted it, and pretended to nibble it, before throwing it discreetly on the ground. Kisame snickered, knowing very well that Shizuma had probably drooled over it.

“It’s nice to see you out, Nagato,” said Sasori, readjusting Sandaime, as the puppet perched on his lap. “I rarely ever see you.”

“It’s hard for me to get out,” said Nagato.

“You should say when you want to get out, and one of us would help you,” said Sasori. He patted Sandaime’s shoulder. “San comes everywhere with me, don’t you, darling?”

Nagato stared at the ground. “I suppose.”

On the other side of the table, Deidara and Hidan were talking quickly and quietly with their heads bowed. Deidara suddenly giggled.

“What are you both whispering about?” asked Kakuzu.

“Nothing,” said Hidan quickly. Kakuzu raised an eyebrow, and then frowned.

Meanwhile, Shizuma fidgeted, and started trying to climb on Kisame’s shoulders. Kisame lifted him back down. “Oi! You either sit still on my lap, or you run around the garden.”

“I want a piggy back,” insisted Shizuma.

“Not now, daddy’s talking,” said Kisame. “You can have one on the way home.”

He plonked Shizuma back down on the ground and Shizuma happily ran across the garden to Shisui where he flipped burgers on the barbeque. At the other end of the garden, Sasuke sat with his gang. Konan recognised Naruto, and a pink-haired girl they both hung out with. She wondered briefly if that meant she and Nagato would see Jiraiya, and how that would affect their emotions following the row this morning.

“I got you a burger!” announced Shizuma, emerging beside Nagato. He held out a burger on a paper plate. Konan glanced up at Shisui, who waved. “Unca Se-soo told me to bring you a burger.”

“Thank you Shizuma,” said Nagato, accepting the plate. Shizuma proudly watched as Nagato took a bite. Konan watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting to see what Nagato’s reaction to the little boy would be. “Wow, this is the best burger I’ve ever had! Thanks little one.”

“He’s doing great,” said Konan, leaning over to Kisame. She knew very well that Kisame was a single parent and would be grateful for some encouragement and support. “You’re bringing him up so well.”

“You think so?” asked Kisame.

Konan nodded. “He’s a gorgeous kid.”

A shadow loomed over their group.

“Well, hello my friends!” a silken voice greeted. They all looked up to spot the unwelcome figure of Orochimaru. He gestured to an empty seat beside Sasori. “Is this free?”

“No,” Sasori quickly retorted.

“Then who is sitting here?” asked Orochimaru.

Sasori dumped Sandaime in the chair. “San is.”

Deidara concealed a snigger, and then they were mercifully saved when Itachi emerged in the doorway back to house. “My parents are about to do a speech!”

With that, everyone began to rush back inside. Kisame scooped up Shizuma so he didn’t get trampled on under everyone’s feet. Sasori picked up Sandaime. Konan wheeled Nagato, and the Uchiha family stepped aside so that he could go inside the house first. As she wheeled him along, she noticed Hazuki leant towards Mikoto and whispered in a low voice. “Why is Orochimaru here? Did any of you invite him?”

Mikoto shook her head. “No, none of us invited him. We never invite him to our family events…he just turns up.”

Konan parked him by the side of the room, where he would have plenty of room to see what was going on, before moving away to allow some of the shorter members of the party to stand in the prime spot.

“First of all,” began Fugaku. “I just wanted to say thank you to everyone for coming, for all the cards, for all the gifts and all the well wishes. We really appreciate it.”

The room cheered and clapped. Shizuma shrieked enthusiastically, and Kisame quickly hushed him and ruffled his hair. Mikoto smiled fondly at the toddler.

“Twenty-five years is a really long time, and I feel like we’ve achieved a lot in those years,” said Fugaku. He gestured around the room at his home proudly. “We’ve built a company, made it a success, made a lot of our dreams come true, raised two… _occasionally_ lovely sons-”

The room laughed.

“-and I couldn’t have done it without anyone else by my side,” admitted Fugaku, wrapping his arm around Mikoto’s shoulders. “Who else could safely see our sons through the emo phrase without strangling the pair of them when ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ came screaming out of their rooms and put up with the ‘No one understands me!’ tantrums-”

“We never did that,” scorned Itachi.

“Sasuke still listens to it!” Naruto announced, only for Sasuke to shove his hand over Naruto’s mouth.

“Mikoto is my rock,” explained Fugaku. He held up his flute of champagne, and Konan and the rest of the guests lifted theirs. “So I want to raise a toast! To my wonderful wife, Mikoto!”

They took a sip, and then Itachi opened his mouth. “For my parents’ anniversary, I actually have a bit of a surprise up my sleeve. It’s a present from both myself and Shisui.”

He turned to face a wrapped canvas, that covered the entire wall above the mantelpiece where it had been hung in the centre of the living room.

“Mum, dad, I wanted to get you this because I know how much the family means to you, and I thought this would be the perfect time to give this to you,” explained Itachi, waving his hand towards it for emphasis. “Who wants to unwrap it first?”

“I will!” Mikoto handed her flute of champagne to Izumi, and then stood beside the wrapped canvas, her fingers clasping the edge of the wrapping.

“Ready?” asked Itachi.

“I’m ready!” replied Mikoto.

“One…two…three!” counted Itachi.

Mikoto yanked the wrapping.

Immediately there was a loud gasp.

Attached to the wall in front of them on the giant canvas was a huge, blown-up life-drawing of Shisui reclining on his back, completely naked apart from a stick of dango that concealed his genitals. His arms were heavily sculpted and muscled, his chest and stomach held a defined six pack, and he stared at the spectators with a sexy smirk.

Itachi stared speechlessly, before whimpering. “What is that?”

Both Mikoto and Fugaku’s mouths fell open. The whole room began to giggle. Konan clasped her free hand over her mouth.

“What. Is. That?” demanded Itachi.

“It’s a surprise,” replied Shisui proudly.

“What have you done?!” demanded Itachi again. “What did you do?”

“You told me to get your parents a surprise,” beamed Shisui.

Itachi stared back at the picture, then at Shisui, then at his horrified parents, then at Izumi as she doubled over and screamed with laughter, then at the giggling guests, then at Sasuke as he cringed, and then back at the picture. Konan watched the expression on his face blur between a mix of horror, confusion, and embarrassment.

“I said _GET THEM A FAMILY PICTURE_!” yelled Itachi.

Shisui shrugged. “I’m family, aren’t I?”

“Where did you even get that from?” Itachi groaned, pressing his hands to his forehead.

“I commissioned an artist to paint a picture of me,” replied Shisui. He reached up and stroked the picture. “Look at how beautiful it is. Look at my body!”

“You don’t even have a six pack!” Itachi practically screamed, jabbing a pointed finger at the picture. “Why do you have a dango stick covering your bits?”

“Because you like to put both of them in your mou-” began Shisui, before Fugaku clapped his hand over his mouth.

“What part of you thought that would be an appropriate thing to hang up on the wall in my parents’ house?!” Itachi screamed. “What part of your brain thought my mother would love looking at you naked while she’s drinking her morning cup of tea? What made you think my father would enjoy seeing you naked while he’s watching the news? What on earth made you think Sasuke would like to see you naked while he’s doing his homework?”

“I thought it would be the perfect thing to hang above the fireplace!” replied Shisui, shoving Fugaku’s hand off his mouth.

“What? And you think that’s meant to be sexy?” Itachi tugged at his hair, so that it escaped his low ponytail and strands stood in the air.

“Oh hell yeah!”

“It’s horrible!” groaned Itachi. “It’s hideous…I hate it.”

“Awww, now that’s not very nice!” Shisui retorted. “Poor Deidara…he worked so hard.”

Itachi looked up. “ _WHAT_?”

“Deidara did this?” asked Sasuke.

“Yeah! I commissioned him! Look! He’s signed it and everything!” Shisui pointed to the corner of the canvas where Deidara’s signature was scrawled.

Sasori walked right up to the picture, holding Sandaime. “It looks terrible, I’m not surprised Deidara is the artist of such a hideous piece of work. Don’t you agree, San?”

“I’m going to slap him,” seethed Itachi.

“Excuse me while I go and warn Dei,” Hidan muttered in Konan’s ear. She felt him slip away beside her, moving quickly through the hordes of guests. Konan herself began to weave through the guests to see how Nagato was enjoying this spectacle, as the Uchihas all calmed down from Shisui’s inappropriate present.

“It’s all right, Itachi,” comforted Mikoto, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate the thought.”

“No, mum, no, it’s not all right,” Itachi groaned, leaning his head on his mother’s shoulder. Mikoto wrapped her arms around him and patted his back.

“Haha, loser, you’ve gone and done it now,” taunted Sasuke to Shisui. “You’re sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

“He’s sleeping in the shed,” growled Fugaku. He jerked his head in the direction of the canvas. “I don’t want that staring at me while I’m watching television. Get rid of it. Now.”

“I can’t,” admitted Shisui.

Fugaku’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I superglued it to the wallpaper,” explained Shisui.

Fugaku’s expression turned red. “So not only did you ruin my anniversary present, you’ve ruined my wallpaper?”

Konan had just reached Nagato when there was the sound of footsteps in the hallway.

“They didn’t like it, hm?” asked Deidara.

“No, and you need to fucking run,” Hidan replied.

“What for, yeah?”

“Because Itachi’s mad.”

“There he is,” Itachi growled. He let go of his mother and pushed through the guests. “DEIDARA!”

“Run, Dei!” instructed Hidan, flinging open the front door of the Uchiha’s house.

Deidara didn’t need to be told twice. Upon catching sight of Itachi’s furious expression, he flew down the stairs, out of the front door, and then pounded down the streets, his blond hair flying behind him.

“THAT PICTURE IS HORRIBLE! YOUR ART IS HORRIBLE!” Itachi roared down the street, standing on the doorway of his parents’ house. “YOU’RE BANNED FROM MY CAFÉ! FOR LIFE!”

“Oh my Jashin,” remarked Hidan.

Konan bent down beside Nagato. Nagato had a strange expression on his face, that wasn’t a sulk, or a sullen angry look. It was a look of amusement.

“Are you all right?” asked Konan, laying her hand over his. “Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks, Konan, I’m all right,” replied Nagato. But even with his dismissal, it didn’t sound contemptuous. His voice still had an amused ring to it.

“Have you had a drink?”

“Just a little champagne,” Nagato lifted his flute to show her. Konan was pleased to notice that there was a paper plate on his lap, greasy from refreshments from the buffet, and empty of food. Nagato had eaten something, which made a change. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” Konan replied. “Yes. Actually I am.”

Itachi stormed back into the living room. “Shisui. That picture needs to go. It’s horrible!”

“I think it’s _beautiful_ -” interrupted Orochimaru.

“GET OUT!” roared Itachi, momentarily turning to round on Orochimaru.

Orochimaru simply smiled. “But you Uchiha have such _lovely_ bodies-”

“You need to leave. Now!” ordered Fugaku.

“Oh come on, babe, just admit it was a good one,” Shisui held his hands out.

“A good one?” Itachi glared at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen dad so mad since he looked at our house on Google maps and spotted Naruto on the roof!”

Shisui grinned. “You know you want to laugh!”

“I am not laughing at all,” argued Itachi. “I am never, ever going to laugh about this.”

“You’re smiling!”

“I AM NOT SMILING!” Itachi yelled.

“My nephews are quite adorable, aren’t they?”

Konan and Nagato both turned around, to spot Obito Uchiha. Immediately, the light that Konan had noticed in Nagato’s eyes flickered out. Inwardly, she felt her heart plummet to her stomach.

“Yes. Rather amusing,” Nagato replied, with his emotionless monotone.

“I’m glad you both decided to join us for this happy occasion,” said Obito.

“Itachi invited me, I couldn’t say no,” said Konan. She laid her hand protectively on Nagato’s shoulder. “And Nagato is a fan of Itachi’s tea.”

“My nephew is quite fond of you, especially considering that he gave you his vote in the elections,” said Obito.

“I wasn’t aware. The votes are meant to be anonymous,” replied Konan. Her hand tightened on Nagato’s shoulder. She felt Nagato wince beneath her grip.

“I suppose it must be hard for you, now that you are a committee member, a small business owner, and still a carer,” said Obito. He rubbed the scarred side of his face. “I know how hard it is…I cared for my Uncle Madara for many years…this lot here…they never lifted a finger. It was all on me.”

“I’m sure Uncle Madara appreciated your efforts greatly,” Konan loosened her grip on Nagato, but did not release him. She felt Nagato raise his hand to cover hers, threading his bony fingers between hers.

“I bet you must hate being trapped in that thing,” stated Obito, glancing down at Nagato.

“That’s nothing to do with you,” responded Nagato, and for once, Konan was glad of Nagato’s morose, miserable and deprecating tone.

“Well, you remember what I told you, don’t you, Konan?” Obito took a step forwards, and pulled out a business card. Konan did not free her hands to accept it, and kept them as they were, with one holding Nagato’s, the other holding her champagne glass.

“Yes, I do,” she answered, staring down her nose at him.

“If you ever want any help,” Obito offered the card, yet Konan still did not raise her hands to accept it. Obito instead reached forwards, and tucked it inside the neckline of her low cut dress. Konan felt the plastic-coated cardboard slither against her body, the sharp edges of the card pressing against the delicate skin, then his intrusive clammy fingers patting it in place, and stared at him disgustedly. “You know where to find me.”

“Oi scarface, are you bothering my woman?” demanded Hidan, storming over, with one fist clenched.

“Hidan,” scolded Konan, even as she hated to admit to herself that she was relieved to see him.

“I’ll leave you all to it,” said Obito, sauntering off.

Konan reached inside her dress, and ripped the card in two, before stuffing it inside an empty champagne glass that someone had left on the side.

“I hate that man,” growled Konan, rubbing at the two red lines that appeared where the sharp edges dug into her.

“Who is he?” asked Hidan.

“I want to go out for a cigarette,” said Konan. She turned back to Nagato.

“Go. I’ll be fine,” urged Nagato. Konan reached for her bag, and hung it over her shoulder. As she made her way out of the living room and into the garden, Hidan following, she noticed Itachi slump down in the chair beside Nagato, his head in his hands.

“Who’s that man?” repeated Hidan as she pulled out a cigarette.

“He’s affiliated with the Small Business Committee,” explained Konan, flicking on her lighter. “He tries to cut out our funding all the time…he’s one of Itachi’s uncles. He used to look after their Great-Uncle Madara, but then Madara died a few years back. Itachi suspects that his family are still disappointed that he left their company to open a café and that they’ve sent him to spy on him, but I’ve known him for longer than that. He’s always trying to buy my business out, trying to buy other businesses out, but I’ve said no so many times.”

“He sounds like an arse.”

“He is,” agreed Konan, taking a drag of her cigarette. “He…he preys on people’s weaknesses, saying stuff to me about how with the money from his investment I could pay a proper carer for Nagato, or get him a powerchair, or even experimental treatment to help him walk. But it’s a lie. A scam.”

“I’ll keep my eye out for him,” decided Hidan. He laid his hands on her shoulders. “And if he ever touches you again I will slit his throat.”

Konan couldn’t help but smile. “Truthfully, I could have punched him in the stomach and slammed him over onto the refreshment table, but that would have been a waste of good food.”

“Worth it,” snickered Hidan. “And anyway, since when do you smoke?”

“Since I saw that man,” replied Konan.

Back inside the house, the music had flicked back on. Konan inhaled and exhaled, before stubbing out her cigarette against the wall. A couple of the guests and the Uchihas had began dancing to the music. Feeling slightly calmer, Konan tugged at Hidan’s arm, and pulled him in to join.

“My best advice to you, Itachi, is don’t get mad. _Get even_ ,” Nagato’s voice floated over the rest of the music and the guests. Konan turned, and looked in to see Itachi sitting beside Nagato with a restless Shizuma clamouring over them both. Nagato turned away from Itachi, and then picked up a picture book that he’d tucked beside him in his chair. Shizuma stopped clamouring, and settled against Nagato, as Nagato opened it up to begin reading.

Konan turned away, deciding that she needed to stop thinking about Nagato and let him get on with socialising and making friends by himself. Opposite her, Itachi’s cousin Izumi was dancing with a taller older girl, who wrapped her arms around Izumi lovingly, and they swayed together. Even Fugaku and Mikoto had joined the dancing, after the shock of Shisui’s prank. Sasori joined, holding Sandaime in his arms, twirling the puppet around with a glazed expression on his face.

Itachi eventually joined the group, wrapping his arms around Sasuke and dancing with his little brother. Shisui sat sulking at the edge of the garden, eventually re-attending to the barbeque.

Konan glanced back inside, and then realised that Nagato’s head rested against the side of his chair, and his eyes were closed. Curled in his lap was Shizuma, resting his black curls against Nagato’s chest. They’d both fallen asleep, and one of Nagato’s arms tucked itself around the toddler.

Konan nearly did a double take at them both, but then decided to leave them as they were. Kisame was on the other side of the garden, talking to Mei, a woman that Konan recognised from the city council. By the looks of things, they knew one another well.

Kakuzu sat sipping drinks at the side of the garden, uninterested in dancing. Konan leant her head on Hidan’s shoulder, and then felt his arms slide up her back, holding her close. She half-closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“Thank _you_ for coming with _me_ ,” replied Hidan. He glanced down at her as she peered up at him from her chest. “If you hadn’t come, seriously, I would be running through the streets with Deidara right now.”

“I think Nagato had a good time too,” Konan glanced back into the living room, at the sleeping Nagato and Shizuma.

“What are you going to do about him?” asked Hidan.

“I’m not sure yet. But changes do need to be made,” decided Konan. She stopped dancing, and patted his cheek. “This weekend has been lovely. I almost don’t want to go back to work tomorrow. But I think I might get Nagato home, he looks exhausted.”

Hidan nodded, although Konan couldn’t help but notice the reluctance in his expression. There was movement in the house behind him, as various guests gathered their belongings and said their goodbyes. There were even a few snaps of cameras they took pictures of Shisui’s inappropriate present.

Konan led Hidan inside, and then stroked Shizuma’s curly black hair to wake him up. Shizuma sat up, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists. Konan scooped him up from Nagato’s lap in her arms, and then he snuggled against her, laying his chubby cheek against her neck as he closed his eyes again. Konan felt a pang, wondering if Shizuma missed the mother who had walked out on him.

She carried him over to Kisame, who let his toddler curl up against his broad arms. She returned to Nagato, taking the handles of his wheelchair in her arms, and deciding to wheel him out through the back garden so she didn’t need to wake him to carry him down the front stairs.

They were suddenly interrupted by a huge cheer.

“The bottle chooses…Naruto!” announced Ino. She spun it again, and then there was another cheer as it landed on the second person. “And…Sasuke!”

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” chanted the group of twelve teenagers.

Before anyone knew what was going on, Sasuke pulled Naruto into a kiss, crushing their lips together. Both boys fought for dominance, their inexperienced tongues crashing against each other’s, making sloppy, slurpy noises. The table around them whooped and cheered, clapping their hands.

“What the hell is going on over here?” demanded Fugaku, striding across the garden. He stopped a few metres away, and stared, absolutely horrified. “Oh for god’s sake! There goes my wife’s last hope at being a granny!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^^^^ well I bet Fugaku is wishing he never had the party now! XD
> 
> Did you spot Shadow's OC? <3
> 
> there was so much detail I wanted to add to this chapter but simply couldn't fit in! :O


	9. Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan ends up attending an impromptu 'Meet the Parents' dinner at Konan's house, where Nagato starts a row...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! thanks for waiting...I ended up leaving this story on hold for a bit as I wanted to finish off my kisaita, which i've now done. So the focus is now on finishing this one and taking part in some upcoming events. :)
> 
> I would also like to warn of a self-harm scene in the first half of this chapter. if anyone is uncomfortable and finds it triggering to read, then please feel free to skip it. I also wish to stress that I do not endorse nor intend to glorify self-harm in any manner. I don't personally hc Hidan self-harming for the typical motives of a self-harmer, hence his easy promise to stop. But we shall see if it works.
> 
> There is also frank discussion of children growing up in care and the effect and outcome it can have on them.
> 
> As well as this, like with my Sannin + Ame Kids series, due to my beliefs in gender equality and respect for women, I'm downplaying Jiraiya's perverted nature as I cannot write him canonically in good conscience. Therefore, I am emphasising his more fatherly characteristics and his kindly nature with children, rather than the gross "come see me when you're eighteen" comment he makes to Konan.

Hidan watched as Konan wrapped her leather jacket around herself, and then reached for Nagato’s chair.

“Let me wheel him,” he offered, remembering the way she had strained on the way to Itachi’s house. “Your arms could use a break.”

Konan hesitated, and then turned to him. “Don’t wheel him over all the bumps on the pavement, I don’t want him to wake.”

“As if I would,” scorned Hidan, wheeling Nagato with ease, out of the back garden, around the side of the house, and down the sloped drive. Fugaku had long since left the teenagers to their ‘Spin The Bottle’ game, and now Sakura and Ino were passionately locked in an embrace.

As they reached the street, Hidan noticed a man with shaggy white hair, some tied back in a ponytail, who watched Konan and Nagato curiously. Hidan turned to see her reaction, and noticed that as they grew level with the man, Konan’s amber eyes grew very shiny, she nodded very cordially, and continued to march forwards.

“Who was that?” asked Hidan, once they had walked a few metres down the road. He tossed a few more glances over his shoulder, but the man had disappeared inside the Uchiha house.

“That was my father,” replied Konan.

Hidan stopped pushing Nagato’s chair. “You mean that’s the guy who fostered you?”

“That’s right.”

Hidan gestured back in the direction of the Uchiha house. “Don’t you want to go back and say hello?”

He watched Konan as she deliberated, only for her to eventually shake her head. “No. Not now. Now isn’t a good time. I should get Nagato home. Besides, considering how he was earlier…I think Nagato has had to deal with a lot today.”

“If you want to see your dad, you should see him,” said Hidan.

Konan gave him a sad smile. “Not right now, I’m afraid.”

“But I thought you wanted to see him.”

“I did, but today’s not the day. Even I’m tired,” Hidan watched as Konan ran a hand through her hair. “I have such a full on week coming up…and I still need to think about where to get rid of the ashes.”

“Remember what I said at work?” asked Hidan. “I can find somewhere to scatter them.”

“I was thinking somewhere we used to visit as children,” admitted Konan.

“Oh right,” agreed Hidan, remembering that Konan was older than him, and had had a whole entire life before he came along. He glanced back to Konan, wondering whether or not to ask her about her childhood, about her memories, her past, if she would even want to share it with him yet, or if now was the right time. She had happily shared her memories last night, but then she had had a few sips of wine, and they were on their own, tucked away in the restaurant booth.

He noticed that her head fell, staring at the ground thoughtfully as they walked. Hidan wanted to ask, desperately wanting to understand how Konan had come to be the woman who walked along beside him now.

His thoughts turned to his own parents, and of his own childhood. Briefly, he wondered if he ought to tell them about Konan. They’d always disapproved of his actions, of his lack of a girlfriend, claiming that he was weird and not normal. That had stung, and it still did.

But now he had met Konan, he was desperate to see what they would say. He was certain that they would like her, after all, there was very little to dislike about Konan. But another part of him dreaded the idea. He thought of the horrible ways they’d made him feel over the years, feelings that only lessened when he found Jashinism. He almost didn’t want to taint the happiness and joy he felt from his love for Konan with some of their cruel comments.

Hidan sighed, staring down at Nagato. Nagato’s eyes were closed, his red hair falling across his cheek. There were no childhood friends he would have ever cared for if anything had happened to them. There were kids in the neighbourhood that he knew, that sometimes he would play with, but he couldn’t remember their names or their faces. They hadn’t even liked him that much.

Apparently he was 'weird' and 'scary.'

Outside of Konan’s house, Hidan helped Konan carry Nagato inside, laying Nagato down on his bed. Konan took his shoes off for him and tucked a blanket over his waist, before laying out a series of painkillers on his bedside table for when Nagato awoke. As she busied herself, Hidan couldn’t resist looking around at the room. Most of it was at low, easy-to-reach levels, and Nagato seemed to keep his personal space in cleanly condition.

Hidan looked up, noticing a few pictures on Nagato’s shelves, tucked between various law books and political treatise. In the first one, Hidan was confronted by a much younger and happier Nagato with Konan and an orange-haired man Hidan assumed was Yahiko.

He stared, taking in every detail, of the man’s spiky orange hair, kind brown eyes, and wide smile. His assumptions were confirmed when he caught sight of a wedding photo, with Konan in a white gown and Yahiko wearing a matching suit. Konan clutched a bridal bouquet of origami flowers, and in her other hand held a pint of beer. She looked very young, and as Hidan scrutinised the roundness of her cheeks and brightness of her eyes, he thought to himself that she couldn’t be much older than eighteen.

“We couldn’t afford a proper wedding reception, so we went to the pub instead,” explained Konan.

“Am I being nosey?” asked Hidan.

“Yes,” replied Konan. She pointed to another picture, of herself howling with laughter in the midst of a mass of bodies, her wedding dress illuminated by bright neon lights. “Then when the pub shut, we went to the club. I can’t believe I went clubbing in a wedding dress. But it was so much fun.”

Konan ushered Hidan out, closing Nagato’s door.

“When can I see you again?” asked Hidan.

Konan pulled him down into a kiss, before releasing him, their mouths barely millimetres away. “Whenever you want. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She released him, and then nuzzled her nose against his. Hidan was struck by the affection in the gesture. It wasn’t even a sexy one, but the tip of his nose tingled.

“I’ll come and see you,” Hidan kissed her forehead, and held her close, feeling her lean her head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to leave her here with Nagato, he wanted to take her home with him and love and worship her in the way she deserved.

But Konan was a capable, adult woman.

Hidan climbed into his car, and watched as Konan leant in the doorway to see him off, folding her arms. The breeze ruffled the navy tiers of her dress and her royal blue hair, so she swayed like a blue flower in the wind. There were still two pink marks on the tender skin down the neckline of her dress where Obito had slipped his business card. Hidan fought back a frown, and instead smiled and waved at her as he started the car, and then pulled off.

He parked the car outside of Kakuzu’s, before slipping inside. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had left for their date the previous night. So much had changed since then, in both his life and Konan’s. He tugged off his jacket and shirt, shrugging his shoulders with relief and comfort. He even yanked down his trousers, and sat in his boxers on the sofa, leaning his head back against the cushion of the seat.

From his trouser pocket, he clutched his phone. The battery had run dead, so Hidan plugged it in, and sat waiting for it to charge. He glanced at the clock and realised that it was heading into the late evening. It would probably be too late to call, or text.

He’d leave it until the next day.

* * *

At work, Hidan began to try and catch up on all the tasks on Friday that he’d missed. He gave the excuse that he had been ill and slept through his alarms, and couldn’t look at his phone. This morning, he found himself able to concentrate much better, catching up on his work by midday, when he chewed a protein bar for lunch.

Hidan found that now that he and Konan had consummated their passion for one another, his thoughts had calmed, and whenever he thought of her, whilst he still felt passion, his thoughts were calmer, tempered by affection and tenderness. This was nicer, he decided, but he also felt some pangs of anxiety as he stared at his phone.

He scrolled down to the last few texts he’d sent his parents.

_‘Happy birthday x’_

_‘Thank you mum x’_

That had been back in April. Hidan scrolled further back.

_‘What are you doing for Christmas?’_

_‘We’re going abroad’_

_‘Ok have a good time’_

They hadn’t even replied, or messaged him back on the actual day. Hidan had ended up spending Christmas with Kakuzu, bonding over the fact they both hated this time of the year. They’d drunk beer, ate frozen pizza out of Hidan’s freezer that they heated in the oven, lounged on Kakuzu’s sofa, watching serial killer documentaries, Hidan fell asleep on the sofa, Kakuzu put a blanket over him and then went to bed, and that was it.

Hidan began to tap.

_‘Hi mum, just thought I’d let you know I’m seeing a girl. She’s really talented and clever, I think you’d like her. Speak soon’_

Hidan’s finger hovered over the ‘x,’ wondering whether or not to leave a kiss. Whenever he left them in messages for Deidara, he tapped them out automatically, and it came naturally, even with Deidara’s protests that it was weird. But he didn’t have that closeness with his parents, it felt more like a formality, an obligatory, and not something that had a feeling behind.

He backspaced the message, then typed it out again.

Eventually, Hidan steeled himself, and smacked the send button. What harm was it? He was just a son sending a message to his parents, there was nothing weird or out of the ordinary about it.

He turned back to his work, typing up scheduled posts and statuses to go across the social media pages. He edited photographs for Instagram, and then started to get to work on some new flyers. An hour later, he glanced at his phone, and noticed that there were no new notifications. Hidan swallowed, and then carried on with his work.

At the end of the day, before he began the drive home, Hidan glanced at his phone again.

It was blank.

He stuffed it in his pocket, then started the car. Throughout the drive home, Hidan tried to concentrate on the road, and not on the lack of reply. He parked the car outside of Kakuzu’s, and then walked inside. Upstairs, he could hear Kakuzu’s radio playing, the vibration of Kakuzu’s vacuum cleaner and the shifting of furniture.

Hidan kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and then looked at his phone.

_‘So?’_

Hurt tore through Hidan’s chest like a spear. Before he knew it, he slumped down against the kitchen cupboards onto the floor, and leant with his head in his hands, sobbing.

Then he sat back up.

He knew what he needed to do.

He moved through the rooms, collecting his candle, his incense, and his ceremonial knife.

Hidan dug the knife back in the wound from Thursday, releasing the blood. He dipped a finger in the cut, then dabbed another inverted triangle enclosed in a circle onto the kitchen. He lit the candle, lit the incense, and then began to pray.

“Please, Jashin, make them hurt. Make them hurt like I have to. Make them feel it. Make them understand,” he mumbled.

Hidan prayed and prayed, until his tongue turned numb. He felt the familiar numbness coming over his body as the wound throbbed and throbbed. Black spots appeared before his eyes, and Hidan let the peace drift over him.

A feminine voice gasped. “What the…Hidan!”

And then Konan herself was kneeling over him, lifting his body upright, picking up his arm and staring at the wound. His head sagged against her shoulder, and he was confronted by her floral scent, and felt the tickle of her hair against his cheek.

“He does it all the time,” complained Kakuzu, the keys to Hidan’s flat jangling from his thumb. “I only just managed to make him scrub up the mess from the last one.”

Konan ignored Kakuzu, examining the cut. Hidan didn’t have the strength to stop her, and instead watched her amber eyes turn horrified.

“Anyway, if you’re going to sort him out, then be my guest. I’m fed up of nagging him not to do it,” said Kakuzu, turning away and heading back upstairs.

“Why did you do this?” asked Konan, gesturing to his arm.

“Praying…” mumbled Hidan.

“Praying? This is how you pray?”

“…that’s right,” Hidan nodded.

“You mustn’t,” Konan pulled him closer into her arms, pressed his head against her chest, stroking her hands through his hair. “You mustn’t hurt yourself like that.”

“Why not? I’m transferring pain.”

“To who?”

“My parents,” admitted Hidan. “They hate me. I want them to hurt like me.”

“No,” Konan shook her head. She looked at his wound. “You did this on Thursday too?”

Hidan nodded.

“What for?”

“To take your pain,” murmured Hidan, nuzzling closer. “And I’m glad…I’m glad it worked.”

“No. _No_. No, Hidan. That is not what I want,” Konan ordered firmly, giving him a shove away. “You do not cut yourself for me. I don’t want that.”

Hidan stared at her curiously.

She released him, and then started to hunt through his cupboards. He noticed she wore a long dark trench coat that covered her from neck to ankle, catching a glimpse of heels and stockings beneath the hem of the coat.

Then she bent over him again, and pulled out his arm. Hidan let her tend to him, thinking how nice it was that she cared, that someone cared.

“You’re not the only person to feel this way,” Konan said simply, as she ran an antiseptic wipe over the cut. Hidan winced. Konan dabbed away the blood, and then tacked on a piece of gauze. She started to tightly wrap the bandage around the wound. Hidan felt the cloth tighten around his arm. When Konan had finished, she tied it off easily, and forced him to look at her. “When Yahiko died, I wanted to rip out my hair and punch myself and get all the hurt out, and then join him. But there were people who needed me, people who I’d only pass the hurt onto instead. There are people who need you, Hidan.”

Hidan simply stared at her, so Konan turned harsh.

“If you cut yourself again, I will leave you. I have not got the emotional energy to spend on worrying about you hurting yourself. I have spent years caring for Nagato. I will not switch from caring for him to caring for you.”

“You don’t have to,” said Hidan, shaking his head. Strands of silvery hair jostled against the kitchen cupboard. “I can take care of myself.”

"Clearly you can't if you're cutting yourself."

"I don't want your help!" snapped Hidan. "I didn't ask for it. I can take care of myself."

"Fine. Be as you wish," Konan released his arm, and crossed hers in response. "Ruin your body and ruin your life. It matters little to me."

Hidan took an intake of breath at the icy tone in her voice. He wished he hadn't spoken so harshly to her. Already, pangs of guilt flooded his being.

"It's my faith, Konan. I need it," he tried to explain gently.

"What kind of faith demands you hurt yourself?"

"The kind of faith that keeps you pandering to Nagato," retorted Hidan.

"I don't pander to him," scorned Konan.

"Sure you don't," scoffed Hidan. He glanced back down at his arm, even as he felt her icy demeanour cracking and her temper rising. "But...thank you for caring. For me."

"I care too much," Konan ran a hand through her hair and tugged at it tensely. Her voice wobbled. “I’ve had Deidara crying in my hut all day and frightening away my customers.”

Hidan frowned. “Why is he crying?”

“Because of the whole business with that stupid picture. He thinks all the Uchihas are out to get him and that they set him up.”

“Poor Dei,” Hidan leant back against the cupboard.

“Don’t cut yourself for him,” warned Konan.

“I won’t,” Hidan held his arm close to his body, as he realised a resolution was needed. “I won’t cut myself again. I’ll continue to worship Jashin, but I won’t cut myself. Not if it hurts you.”

Konan leant her head on his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” asked Hidan.

“I wanted to see you,” admitted Konan. “I was ringing and ringing, and then Kakuzu let me in. I had to listen to a five minute lecture about pressing the bell over and over and disturbing him, but then I said your car was outside but you weren’t answering, and he let me in. He seemed worried about you.”

“Makes a change,” grunted Hidan.

“He does care,” scolded Konan.

“Sure he does,” Hidan lifted his uninjured hand and laid it on her thigh. “Here. Let me take your coat. I’ll put the kettle on. Are you hungry?”

“No, I’ll keep my coat on,” said Konan.

“It’s not cold…why do you want your coat on?” frowned Hidan. Curiously, he slipped his hand between the slit of her coat, pulling it apart. Hidan’s eyebrows raised as he caught sight of laced stockings attached to a garter belt. “You came here like this for me?”

“Stop it,” Konan pushed her coat back down. “I don’t want that now. Not after you’ve just…”

“I’m sorry,” Hidan removed his hand, and laid it back in his lap. “Do you want one of my shirts? I can get you some tracksuit trousers too if you want to be comfortable.”

“That would be nice,” admitted Konan. She knelt upright, and then began to help Hidan up. “And I’ll put the kettle on and make us some food. You should regain your strength.”

Hidan wandered into his room, lightheaded. He fetched a clean shirt, and a clean pair of tracksuit trousers. Folding them over his arms, he wandered back out to see Konan flicking on the kettle, hunting through his cupboard for mugs, teaspoons, his supply of tea and coffee. He settled against the doorframe, and watched her, thinking that she looked just right where she was.

“Drink that,” said Konan, holding out a steaming mug of tea. Hidan handed her the shirt and trousers, and accepted the mug instead. He sat down at his kitchen table whilst Konan slipped into his bathroom. He watched her eyes glance around his flat. Hidan supposed it seemed even more spartan than her place, since he hadn’t had many belongings to begin with.

In a few moments, she reappeared. The shirt stretched across her chest, but hung over her dainty shoulders and slim waist. The trousers just about balanced on the widest part of her hips. Her feet were bare beneath the trousers, little red painted toes peeking out at him.

“How do I look?” asked Konan. “Like a boy?”

Hidan smiled over his mug. “No, you look cute.”

She settled opposite him at the table, and sipped from the mug she’d made for herself. Hidan reached out with his uninjured hand, and clutched hers.

“How was your day?” he asked.

Konan seemed surprised by his concern. “It was ok.”

“Was it?” asked Hidan. “Nagato…did he give you any grief last night?”

“After you left, Nagato cried,” replied Konan. She pressed her fist to her mouth. “He said how he hated his life, how he hated being disabled and that he couldn’t come to terms with it and find a way to carry on and live his life. He said every time he sees another disabled person on the tv or on the internet they’re always being held up as some kind of inspiration porn for able-bodied people or being accused of being welfare scroungers. He said how hard it was for him to see me able to carry on while he couldn’t. I said that I couldn’t give him what he needed anymore and he should have some counselling.”

“And how did he like that?”

“He hates the idea of it, but he doesn’t have many options left,” replied Konan. “I said he needs more friends and a bigger support group. And I said to him that I was going to message Jiraiya and we were going to get together and have dinner, and that was it.”

“Did you message him?” asked Hidan.

“Not yet,” admitted Konan.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t know what to say,” explained Konan.

“Oh…” Hidan bent down. “I get you.”

Konan peered at him. Hidan watched her eyes scan his features, and knew that his pale cheeks would have flushed from crying, that his eyes would be puffy, but supposed the physical effect of the ritual must have initially concealed that from her.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“I sent my mum a text to let her know how I was. We hadn’t spoken since my birthday. And all she said was ‘so?’ It was a silly thing to be upset by. I just thought she might be interested.”

Konan reached over the table, and rubbed his cheek with the back of her hand. Hidan closed his eyes and leant into her touch, savouring the tenderness.

“It’s ok to be upset. I’d have been upset,” assured Konan, her thumb brushing beneath his eyelid. He felt her rub away his tears, but then it made him start to cry more. It was such a sweet, simple kindness, and one that no one had ever taken the time to offer him.

“Sorry,” mumbled Hidan.

“Don’t be,” Konan wiped away the tears again. “Remember what I said? Even if your parents don’t want you in their lives…I do.”

Hidan tried to regain his composure. “Tell me…tell me more about your day. Maybe I can help you message Jiraiya.”

“I’ll do it now,” decided Konan. “While you’re here. Then if it backfires, we can mope about our lack of parental affection together.”

The thought of commiserating in their shared pain soothed Hidan. He watched as Konan reclined back, and then tapped out a message. Hidan watched her breath deeply as she tapped, and then she leant over to show him.

“Here. What do you think?”

Hidan accepted the phone.

_‘Nice to see you the other day, sorry I couldn’t stop to chat, was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner one day this week? Nagato and I have loads to tell you about, speak soon, love K x’_

Hidan nodded. “It’s nice. It’s sweet.”

“Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Hidan nodded, as he handed back the phone. “He’d be an idiot not too.”

“All right, its sent,” Konan tapped the send button, and then put her phone back in her pocket.

“If you want, I can always come to dinner with you, if you like?” suggested Hidan.

“I was going to ask,” Konan leant back across the table, and then brushed his hair back again with her fingers. Hidan closed his eyes and let her, enjoying the feel of her hands. “Have you eaten?”

Hidan shook his head.

“You ought to eat something,” Konan glanced down at his arm.

“I don’t know what.”

“I’ll make something,” decided Konan.

“You don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to,” Hidan shook his head. “You probably cook all the time at yours. At mine, I want you to relax.”

“You do?” asked Konan.

In the end, they ended up cooking together. Konan refused to let Hidan use his injured arm, and instead took over those duties for him. They sat opposite each other back at the table, Konan holding his hand to stop him from moving it too much, and ate in companionship, like they had at the restaurant. Outside, it grew dark, and they ended up relaxing on the sofa, watching the television blare inanely at them.

“Are you sleepy?” asked Hidan, as Konan sighed against his chest. “Shall I drive you home? Or do you want to stay here?”

Konan lifted her head. “Stay here.”

“What about Nagato?”

“He can put himself to bed.”

Hidan was momentarily stunned as Konan nuzzled close against him. Hidan felt the familiar stirring in his groin, but realised that he didn’t necessarily want to be with her like that right now. He reached down, and scooped Konan up in his arms, careful of his bandaged wound. He carried her through the flat, to his bed, where he settled her on top of the duvet. Gently, he tugged off the trousers, deciding that she could use his shirt as a nightdress.

Hidan undressed to his boxers, and then crawled in beside her. He felt Konan curl against his side, and her head nestled on his shoulder, like a pillow.

“This is nice,” he heard her mumble against his skin.

“It is,” he admitted, as her arm wrapped across his chest.

“I had such a long day,” Konan sighed into the darkness. “And they’re only going to get worse. I wanted to make a start on some of the things I want to do as representative, I thought as Monday is normally a quiet day I could work on my laptop, but then I had Deidara crying…then Obito Uchiha turning up again-”

Hidan’s eyes opened, remembering the two pink marks on Konan’s chest. “What did he do?”

“He was trying to buy me out… _again_ ,” Konan sighed. “Then he was being all creepy with Deidara, stroking his fringe and making back-handed compliments about his art. Poor Dei could barely make sense of them and kept getting all flustered.”

Hidan felt a protective urge spike through him. “Want me to kill him for you?”

“No,” Konan giggled. “That wouldn’t look good for either of us professionally.”

“I’ll become a professional killer.”

Konan giggled again, then snuggled more firmly against his shoulder. “You know, I don’t think I’ll be an origamist forever. I love it, and it will always be my hobby, but I see myself doing more, maybe going more in this representative route. Maybe I’ll join the local council.”

“Oh, really?” asked Hidan, curiously turning his head to face her.

“You don’t actually make a lot of money selling origami,” admitted Konan. “Because there’s no real use for it. It just looks pretty. That’s why I started selling the bouquets for events, so it did have a use and purpose. And that’s why I run my classes, for extra income.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Hidan, turning his head back to face the ceiling. He heard a few creaks above his head, as Kakuzu presumably settled into bed with a book. “You know, I don’t see myself staying at my job either.”

“Really?”

“I know I’ve been there for only a year, but I’m the only marketing person in the company, so I’m basically a manager already, but they’re paying me and treating me like an assistant,” explained Hidan. “If I want any kind of progression or pay rise then I’d have to move to a bigger company, maybe commute into London. Then I’d probably have to drop down to officer level and work with a team, and take a pay cut from paying out for the commute. Then it would make sense to get rid of my car but that’s the last thing I want to do. Unless I joined another small business or a start-up here. Oh, I don’t know, Konan, I don’t know what I want for the future…I never even thought I’d make it this far…”

Hidan felt her hand lay upon his face and start caressing his cheek. They were quiet for a little while, and Hidan thought that they would fall asleep in that moment, until an unfamiliar ping went off.

“That’s mine,” said Konan, sitting back upright.

Hidan blinked, as Konan reached over to the bedside table and opened her phone. Blue light flooded the room.

“What is it?” asked Hidan, rubbing his eyes.

“Jiraiya. He said he’d love to see us. And he signed it _‘love, dad’_ and put an x.”

“Ohh,” said Hidan, as his heart sagged with relief for her. “Of course he loves you. Who couldn’t love you?”

Konan laid her phone back down on the bedside table, and then Hidan couldn’t resist but lean forward to kiss that elegant curve of her neck. She tilted her head sideways, offering full access for him to kiss wherever he liked. One of her hands reached backwards for his, and slid it up his borrowed shirt, so that his hand ran back and forth over her breasts.

Soon, she was guiding him back down, so that they lay together like two spoons in a drawer. Konan reached behind her, tugged at his boxers, and then guided him inside of her. It felt strange to make love to her in this position, making slow, sleepy thrusts from behind. Hidan closed his eyes, losing himself to her floral scent, the tickle of her hair against his cheek, the tender skin of her neck against his lips. His hand reached down and slipped between her legs, tenderly caressing the smooth skin, his fingers brushing against her piercing, searching for her clit. When his finger lightly stroked it, he heard her breath hitch. His thrusts increased as his finger rubbed in a circle, and then they both came together in one long, luxurious sigh. 

* * *

Hidan hadn’t anticipated that his Wednesday night would become an impromptu ‘Meet the Parents’ night. He’d suggested Thursday, to get himself used to the idea of it, but Konan reminded him that she had origami class that night. Then he’d suggested Friday, but Konan reminded him it was her first night as representative and she couldn’t miss it. They’d settled on Wednesday, and Hidan found himself hammering on Kakuzu’s door and asking for advice on how to behave while meeting Jiraiya.

“No more of your cutting shit,” grunted Kakuzu, before slamming the door in his face.

“Fine then, I’ll take a dump on the table!” Hidan shouted through the keyhole.

Kakuzu re-opened the door, wearing a pitying expression on his face. “No, Hidan, no.”

Hidan found himself wearing another smart dress shirt and trousers, walking down the road to Konan’s house, clutching another bouquet of flowers. He rung the bell, and was greeted by Nagato. Nagato wore a sour expression, and Hidan realised that Konan had probably stuffed him into the cashmere jumper and dark coloured jeans he wore.

“You’re not Jiraiya,” stated Nagato.

“Do I look like an old man?” asked Hidan, but immediately silenced when noise from the kitchen ceased and Konan appeared in the doorway. Tonight, she wore a white shift dress that made her glow in the evening light. He stepped past Nagato, and then greeted her with a long kiss. “These are for you.”

“Perfect. The ones from Saturday were just beginning to wilt,” Konan accepted them gladly, and laid them on the kitchen side. Hidan sniffed, the savoury scent of tomato greeted him, as he noticed that Konan was cooking a pasta dish.

“How do I look?” asked Hidan, holding out his hands. “I made Kakuzu help choose my outfit.”

“Handsome as ever,” Konan placed her hands on each of his cheeks.

“Do you think he’ll like me?”

“Of course,” assured Konan, although her amber eyes were distracted. Hidan supposed it was due to her anxiety about seeing her father again.

“Need help?” asked Hidan. Now that he’d put the flowers down, he wasn’t sure where to put his hands, and so he leant against the cupboards.

“No, everything here is under control,” replied Konan.

Nagato wheeled himself back in, and then wheeled his chair over to the space at the table where there was no chair. “I don’t want him to come here.”

“Well, he’s coming,” said Konan firmly. She smoothed down her dress. Hidan noticed that it had been ironed impeccably. There was a silence, and then a knock at the door.

“Don’t let him in,” urged Nagato. “Say we forgot what day it was.”

Konan ignored him and paced through the house. Hidan listened with anticipation as the door opened. He almost dreaded the moment where he would be forced to confront Konan’s father, the worry that suddenly he wouldn’t measure up to her rose at the back of his mind. He stared at Nagato, and Nagato suddenly stared back with sympathy.

Hidan moved to the doorway so that he could have a better glimpse at the man. He watched as Konan pulled open the door, and greeted a tall broad-shouldered man with long shaggy white hair, tied back in a ponytail but for a few trails that framed his face. Konan leant up and greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her in turn. Hidan watched as Konan leant her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes briefly. Then she pulled herself together and drew away briskly.

“I brought my godson Naruto with me…you remember Naruto, right?” asked Jiraiya, gesturing to the blond-haired kid behind him, dressed in a heinous orange tracksuit.

“Of course. You’re Sasuke’s friend,” said Konan, bending down to greet Naruto with a kiss on either cheek. She closed the door behind them, before taking Hidan by the arm. “This is my boyfriend, Hidan.”

_HOLY JASHIN SHE CALLED ME HER BOYFRIEND. I’M HER BOYFRIEND. YESSSSS!!!_

Hidan felt as though his tongue had swelled up to twice it’s usual size and he struggled to find the words to express himself. Instead, he grinned like a loon, smiling into thin air.

“Hidan,” said Konan.

“Happy birthday,” announced Hidan.

“It’s no one’s birthday.”

“I meant hello,” said Hidan quickly. He darted quickly back into the kitchen, ignoring Nagato as he sniggered. He stood by the oven and waited to watch Nagato’s reaction when Jiraiya greeted him.

“Nagato, son, good to see you,” Jiraiya reached out and ruffled Nagato’s hair. Nagato shrank away from his large hand, but Hidan couldn’t help but notice in the millisecond before he did so Nagato almost inclined his head towards Jiraiya’s touch, as if he wanted affection from this man. Hidan felt a sting of empathy, that he quickly buried away.

“Nagato, you remember Naruto, from the party, don’t you?” said Konan.

“I was busy talking to Itachi and reading to Shizuma,” responded Nagato morosely.

“And I was busy kissing Sasuke, believe it!” announced Naruto. Nagato sat slumped with his elbows on the table and looked thoroughly unimpressed. Naruto dumped himself down next to Nagato and elbowed him. “But we can talk now, right? Apparently my mum is distantly related to your mum, and we even have the same last name, right?”

“I don’t know. She died and I grew up in a Dumping Ground.”

“Nagato,” scolded Konan.

“What’s a Dumping Ground?” asked Naruto.

“It’s a care home, for children with no families,” explained Konan.

“Well, I’m Jiraiya’s godson, and you were his foster son, so we’re basically brothers, right?”

Nagato was speechless for a moment. “…I suppose.”

“Awesome!” cheered Naruto. “I hope you’re cooler than Itachi, so I can tell Sasuke my big brother is the coolest!”

Nagato was silent again, before he eventually spoke again. “I hope this comparison doesn't mean I’m going to end up with any inappropriate pictures in my living room?”

Naruto howled with laughter. “Sasuke put a Snapchat filter over it, and he’s been putting them all over Instagram! Look!”

Naruto held out his phone, and navigated to Sasuke’s Instagram feed. In the past few days, Sasuke had uploaded a picture of a close-up of Fugaku’s angry face, a video of himself driving Itachi’s car, a picture of Orochimaru staring in through the window of the Uchiha’s kitchen, the family dog Shiro jumping up on the sofa and licking Mikoto, Shizuma running riot around Itachi’s flat above the café, and then some pictures of the inappropriate picture with various Snapchat filters on. Shisui wore a flower crown, a butterfly crown, some dog ears with a dog tongue sticking out of his mouth, and many others.

As Hidan glanced over as Naruto flicked through, he couldn’t help but notice that Sasuke had tagged Deidara in all the pictures, and the captions and hashtags…were not especially complimentary.

_‘stupidest frigging picture I’ve ever seen @deidara #rubbishart #weallhateit’_

Further down in the comments, Hidan noticed that Deidara had also commented, and that Sasuke had replied to many of them. Before he could say anything, Jiraiya settled at the table, and Konan returned to the oven, tending to the food. Unsure of whether to sit down and join Nagato, Naruto and Jiraiya, or to offer further help when she had already said she was fine, Hidan loitered in the space between the kitchen and the dining area, still peering over at Naruto’s phone.

Naruto put his phone away and began to swing on the chair legs of his seat. “So big brother Nagato, where do you hang out?”

“I don’t go out.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t go out.”

“Why not?”

“Not everywhere in the town is accessible for Nagato,” explained Konan, laying a plate of garlic bread in front of them.

“Why not?” Naruto asked for the third time.

“Because all the shops have stairs and no ramps, the doors are too small, the toilets are too small, the pavements are uneven and the people are rude inconsiderate wankers,” replied Nagato.

“Thanks for that thorough explanation, Nagato,” said Konan sarcastically.

“I’ll take you out sometime, big bro!” Naruto elbowed Nagato again. Nagato stared at Naruto strangely, and to Hidan, it seemed as if something inside of Nagato was waking up, something that had lain dormant for years.

“That’s…very kind of you,” Nagato finally responded.

Konan laid a large plate of pasta beside the garlic bread, and then brought over a dish of pasta sauce. Hidan couldn’t help but notice the precision in which she had laid out the cutlery and the plates.

“Sit down,” urged Konan, directing Hidan into a seat. Hidan sat down beside the remaining empty seat so he could sit with Konan, opposite Jiraiya. “Can I get anyone drinks?”

Hidan’s heart almost broke for Konan, as he watched her desperately attempt to make this evening nice. She prepared a drink for everyone, and only then did she finally sit down in the seat next to him. Hidan reached across under the table and clutched her fingers.

“So, how did you two lovebirds meet?” asked Jiraiya.

“Pst! Don’t answer! He just wants research material for his books!” Naruto whispered loudly.

“At work, down at my hut,” answered Konan. She turned to face him. “Hidan wanted me to turn his rent money into origami rats.”

Hidan couldn’t resist a big smile at that, realising at how much better, how much more, his silly whim to annoy Kakuzu had delivered him.

“That’s my girl,” said Jiraiya fondly. “You were always so talented at origami, and now you’re running a business…and you’re a committee representative…”

“Which you weren’t even there for,” stated Nagato.

Hidan nearly kicked him under the table, but remembered that Nagato was paralysed.

“Stop that!” hissed Konan.

“So what do you do, Jiraiya?” asked Hidan, trying to cover up the awkward moment.

“I’m a writer,” replied Jiraiya.

“He writes porn books about naughty ladies,” explained Naruto.

“It’s not porn, its romance!” insisted Jiraiya.

“That’s what they all say,” grinned Hidan. “Do you have any special ladies in your life?”

“Well…there is one,” admitted Jiraiya.

“You honestly can’t seriously still be going after her,” groaned Nagato, putting his head in his hands.

“My dear Tsunade,” said Jiraiya. He pulled out his phone, and showed Hidan a picture of a blonde woman wearing a white coat over a pair of blue scrubs.

“Hey, I know her!” announced Hidan. “That’s the alcoholic gambling addict I tried to set my stupid landlord up on a Tinder date with!”

Hidan felt Konan kick him under the table.

“Alas, my lady love had never returned my affections,” sighed Jiraiya, putting his phone away. “It’s good story inspiration though!”

“Hidan, why don’t you tell Jiraiya about what you do,” suggested Konan.

Hidan turned to face her, unsure if she meant what he thought she meant. “You mean all the silly stuff I-”

“No, your job, Hidan, your _job_.”

“Oh right! I’m a marketing assistant for a funeral home,” explained Hidan. “I post on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram about how great our funerals are, about our funeral deals and packages, where you can bury your dead friends, where you can scatter ashes, and I manage the company website and update the blog, and I do all the photography.”

“What?” demanded Nagato.

Hidan suddenly realised that Nagato hadn’t found out what his job was yet.

“I’m a marketing assistant,” repeated Hidan. “What, did you think I was on benefits or something?”

“Is this some kind of plan?” demanded Nagato across the table at Konan. He jabbed a finger at Hidan. “Is that why you’re with him? To help you get rid of us?”

“Us?” asked Jiraiya.

“No,” Konan shook her head.

“I knew it!” Nagato yelled. “I knew it!”

“That’s not it!” cried Konan.

“Kids, what’s the matter?” asked Jiraiya.

“WE’RE NOT YOUR KIDS!” roared Nagato. “YOU THREW US OUT!”

“Hey, he wouldn’t-” interrupted Naruto.

“HE’LL THROW YOU OUT NEXT!” Nagato thundered across the table at him.

“Shut up!” shouted Naruto.

Nagato stopped, stunned by the usually sunny teenage kid’s change in demeanour.

“He wouldn’t throw me out!” cried Naruto. He suddenly buried his face in his hands.

“I don’t believe you,” Konan shook her head at Nagato. She clamoured up, and fetched a piece of kitchen towel that she handed to Naruto. Clumsily, he wiped his tears away, whilst Konan ran her hands through his blond hair comfortingly.

“I didn’t throw you out!” protested Jiraiya. “You were sixteen…you had to leave care. There were more kids who needed me.”

“Like _who_?” demanded Nagato.

“Stop being so selfish!” barked Konan. “It doesn’t matter who…they were probably younger children who needed a home!”

“Oh, and a bedsit for all three of us was such an acceptable trade-off!” Nagato railed. He slammed his fists on the table and glared at Jiraiya. “Hey guess what, daddy? We shared one room between the three of us, with Yahiko and Konan in a single bed and me on a mattress on the floor! There was damp, we all got sick, all of our belongings were in suitcases, we had to try and feed three people on a budget of less than twenty quid a week, we all had to juggle work with full-time education before we were even adults, and Konan ended up with a revolting boss who kept hitting on her!”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” ordered Konan.

“He needs to know!” roared Nagato.

Hidan silently chewed his lip, listening intently to the conversation.

“You were always welcome back to visit,” Jiraiya added. There was hurt shining in his eyes. He glanced at Konan quickly. “You should have told me.”

“What was the point when you’d already put us out?” retorted Nagato. He slunk back in his seat. “Yahiko and Konan managed to put me through law school. And I was able to take care of us for a few years. Until we lost Yahiko. And things…have never been the same since.”

Nagato put his face in his hands, and let out a wounded howl.

“Is this…what’s going on?” Jiraiya asked again.

“I want to scatter Yahiko’s ashes,” announced Konan.

Jiraiya frowned. “You mean, you’ve still got them?”

“We have,” replied Konan. “I couldn’t let go at first. But I’m ready now. I want him at peace, instead of on display in my front room.”

“You’ve kept Yahiko’s ashes in the front room for ten years?” Jiraiya stared at her. “Konan…that is _weird_.”

“I know,” agreed Konan. “I want him to rest with dignity now. That’s why I invited you here tonight. I want you to be with us when we say goodbye.”

Jiraiya looked horrified. “You should have called me sooner. I would have helped you get rid of them much earlier.”

“No,” sobbed Nagato. He reached out, and clung to the edge of Konan’s dress. “You can’t get rid of them. I can’t throw him away like that.”

“We’re not throwing him away!” scolded Konan, tugging her white dress away from his grip. “He’s been gone for years…we’re just letting him rest in dignity now.”

“I can’t move on,” admitted Nagato.

Hidan watched Konan square her shoulders, and stare down at Nagato. “When do you think you’ll be ready to?”

Nagato released her dress, then lay his hands in his laps. He stared into the table, and then swallowed. “I don’t think…I don’t think I ever will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter! What do you think will happen in the next one? What would you *like* to see in the next one? ;)


	10. Art Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konan and Hidan start to grow used to being together, and pay a visit to Sasori, where Itachi reveals some information about his uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe I have two chapters left to post and the epilogue?! I feel like today's chapter is a bit of a filler chapter, but we do find out some more about what Obito is up to, and Itachi apologises to Deidara. Shisui also apologises to Itachi...but will Itachi accept it?
> 
> I actually planned for them to visit Sasori's house early on when I began this fic, then I worried I wouldn't have time to fit it in and made a Sasohida where Hidan visits Sasori's Haunted House so I could describe it. A few of the hcs presented here are very similar to what I included in that fic - such as Sasori having a taxidermied cat.
> 
> Before I say anything else, I would like to mention an upcoming hc that I am presenting in this chapter. If you look at Konan's weight and compare it to her height (as given in the databooks) you will notice that she has a BMI of about 15, meaning that she is underweight and would be unable to menstruate. She would also lack energy to participate in active duty as a kunoichi, which makes no sense given how powerful she is! However, if you look at official art of her, she has a much healthier and curvier figure, and so for that reason, I am hc'ing that maybe due to her grief (ie. she became disinterested in eating and caring for herself) she may have spent periods of her life being underweight, hence the stats presented in the data book.  
> I am also aware that grief can work the opposite way (such as by making a person comfort-eat) as this is something that has affected me personally in both manners (ie. When I lost my nan I became uninterested in eating and lost weight, when I lost my friend I comfort-ate and put on weight.) Due to my moral conscience, I wish to state that in no shape or form do I believe in glorifying eating disorders or grief, as there is absolutely nothing 'beautiful' about either of them.
> 
> With that being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

The following Sunday brought a steady drizzle of rain. Konan woke up, listening to the steady downpour as Hidan snuggled beside her. His pale eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, his silvery hair mussed against the pillow and her shoulder. Konan kissed his forehead, and Hidan murmured sleepily, his hands wrapped around her waist pulling her closer.

“Come on, get up,” said Konan. “We’re going to Sasori’s. You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Stay here…” Hidan whined.

Konan chuckled lightly to herself, and then reached under the blankets and pushed his hands off. Hidan reluctantly let go, then rubbed his eyes and blinked sleepily.

Konan clamoured out of her bed, and stood upright. Her body was littered with scratch marks, bruising, and lovebites from their activities the previous night...and the night before that…and the night before that too. She walked over to her rail of clothes, and selected an outfit, tossing it over the end of her bed.

Konan knelt down to the cupboard where she stored her lingerie, and then glanced quickly at the cupboard next to it, and then back at Hidan, wondering if it was a bit soon to introduce him to some of her kinks. He’d taken to lovemaking very eagerly, and seemed to be a quick learner so far. All the same, Konan suppressed a giggle as she wondered what his reaction would be as soon as he saw her strap-on.

Konan slipped on her underwear, and then her clothes, before giving Hidan another nudge. Hidan snuggled further under the blanket.

“Come back,” he complained.

“Up,” insisted Konan. “Sasori will be waiting.”

Hidan climbed out of her bed, then reached for the clean clothes that he’d started leaving at her home. He dressed, then sat back on her bed and watched her apply her makeup. They sipped coffee at the kitchen table, holding hands across the table. Konan left a coffee in Nagato’s room for when he woke up, and then they drove through the gloom to Sasori’s house.

Sasori lived in an old Victorian house that had probably seen better days. The roof was steep and sloped, the brick work of the house prominent, and several bays and extra wings jutted out like crooked teeth. The garden was lined by a brick wall, with a high wrought iron gate. Hidan followed Konan up the pathway, staring around at the overgrown lawn and sagging decrepit apple tree.

Konan knocked at the door, and Sasori answered, wearing a pair of brogues, trousers, and a waistcoat over a shirt.

“Thank god you’re here,” he sniffed. “Deidara is crying and I can’t be dealing with all his feelings.”

“He’s still upset?” asked Konan.

“Yes, and he’s getting tears and snot all over Sandaime,” Sasori scowled disgustedly.

“I’ll talk to him,” offered Konan. Once they were inside, Sasori slammed shut the antique door behind them, and he and Konan greeted one another properly with a kiss on either cheek. Konan watched as Hidan gazed around curiously at the hallway, before his eyes alighted on a fluffy Persian cat perched on an antique armchair.

“Aww, a kitty!” Hidan cooed. He bent down, and began to stroke the cat, only to suddenly pull his hand away.

Sasori hissed. “Leave kitty alone.”

“But that’s a…that’s a dead cat!” spluttered Hidan. He stared at Sasori. “Who the hell keeps a dead fucking cat in their house?”

“Sasori does, obviously,” Deidara emerged in the hallway. When Konan looked at him, his hair was ragged, his eyes were red, swollen and puffy, and there was none of his usual bouncy vigour. He wore a pair of leggings, fluffy socks, a baggy shirt and an oversized cardigan. He sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Don’t say I never warned you, yeah.”

“Dei?” asked Hidan worriedly. “You look shit, Dei.”

“Thanks a bunch. Hm!” Deidara retorted.

Konan walked over and placed her arm around his shoulders. “Deidara…I’m worried about you…we all are. You can’t keep crying like this.”

“Those Uchihas,” seethed Deidara. “They set me up. They ruined me! They ruined my whole career!”

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” said Konan. She rubbed Deidara’s shoulder. “Come on. Show me what you’re working on.”

“A bomb to stuff through Itachi’s front door!”

“Perhaps something a bit less violent?”

Konan guided Deidara back into Sasori’s dining room, as he and Hidan followed. In the dining room, Sasori had thrown a cloth over the dining table, and Sandaime was laid out in front of them. Konan laid her bag down on the seat opposite, pulling out several sheaths of paper. Deidara slumped back in his seat and stared at his mug of coffee.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Sasori.

“Sure,” said Hidan.

“No thank you, Sasori, I think I’ll get to work,” said Konan, as she settled down on a seat. Hidan perched next to Konan, and watched as she began folding. With the hectic events of the week, she had fallen behind in her online orders, and so the art day at Sasori’s promised to allow her to catch up.

Sasori wandered back over, and laid a mug in front of Hidan. “Tea.”

“Thank you,” said Hidan, taking a sip. He seemed content to sit watching her fold, sipping tea, and so Konan let him watch. A tribe of cranes perched before her, and then Konan moved onto roses.

“How was the meeting on Friday?” asked Sasori. He rolled his sleeve back up, and then lifted Sandaime’s arm, inspecting it closely.

“Good. Productive,” replied Konan. “I’ve told all of the small businesses that they need to make their shops accessible. It didn’t go down well due to the costs, but I’m going to fundraise, and I have an idea of how to do it.”

“Oh?” asked Sasori. “Well, I’d happily offer you some of the items from work for a discounted price…the ramps shouldn’t be too hard to buy in bulk. Anyway, how is Nagato?”

“He’s fine,” replied Konan, playing with her lip piercing. “He…he still can’t let go of the ashes.”

“Ah,” Sasori frowned, catching sight of a dent in Sandaime’s arm. “Didn’t he want to come today?”

“No, I need time away from him,” said Konan. “We need time apart. It’s not good to be cooped up together in the house all the time. Tomorrow, Naruto is taking him out for a walk while I’m at work.”

Beside her, Hidan took another long sip of his tea.

“Why does he need someone to take him out for a walk?” asked Sasori.

“He has no upper body strength to wheel himself,” explained Konan. “And he’s in pain a lot. He can only really wheel himself through the house and for short distances. If he wants to go out, I have to wheel him.”

“I see,” Sasori glanced back down at Sandaime, his thumb brushing over the dent. “Well, I’ve got a suggestion. You can ask Nagato if he’d be interested. We’re building a prototype for a new powerchair at work, and I think it would be really helpful to him.”

Konan gave a sad smile. “I wish I could afford it, Sasori.”

“No, no, you don’t have to buy this,” Sasori shook his head. “We need our new models tested to make sure they’re comfortable and work properly. I was wondering if Nagato might like to try it out, maybe review it for us, and then keep the finished product.”

“Really?” asked Konan.

“Really. You must be hurting your shoulders and back pushing him around all the time,” said Sasori. “And he must hate relying on you.”

“He does,” agreed Konan.

“Well then! That solves me the problem of having to wait around while they’re sent off for testing. I hate waiting,” said Sasori.

“You’ve been poisoned?” asked Hidan. Konan turned, and realised that he was frowning into the bottom of the mug.

“What?” asked Deidara.

“You’ve been poisoned?” repeated Hidan, turning to hold up the mug. Konan glanced inside, and realised that Sasori had used one of his slogan mugs, one that had the caption _‘You’ve been poisoned’_ at the bottom of the inside of the mug.

“Of course I haven’t really poisoned you,” scolded Sasori. He tilted his head, and smiled. “Or have I?”

“Creepy puppet git-” muttered Hidan, but then there was a knock at the door.

“That’ll be our next guest,” said Sasori.

“Another person?” asked Deidara. “Who?”

Sasori climbed up, and answered the door. Before long, he returned with Itachi following.

“Hey!” shrieked Deidara, rising from the table and leaning his hands on the surface. “Who said you could invite _him_?! This is my safe space!”

“I did,” glowered Sasori. “It’s _my_ house.”

“Well, why is he here?” demanded Deidara. He stared at Itachi. “Don’t you have better places to be?”

“I’m afraid not,” admitted Itachi, taking the seat that Sasori offered him. “I’m still not talking to Shisui. He’s been on the sofa now for about a week.”

“Ouch,” said Hidan.

“Deidara,” said Itachi. “May I talk to you?”

“What?” demanded Deidara. “Come to gloat some more about how horrible my art is? Come to scream at me in the street some more?”

“No, I haven’t,” said Itachi. “Look, I realise now that the picture wasn’t your fault. I understand now what it’s like as a young artist, trying to build a portfolio. I didn’t mean to upset you, I was so angry at Shisui for being such a twat. You’re not banned from my café anymore.”

Deidara went silent, chewing his lower lip. He stared at Itachi from under his long blond fringe.

“There’s nothing wrong with your art,” assured Itachi, laying a hand on Deidara’s shoulder. “But there is something wrong with Shisui thinking it’s funny to give my parents a picture of himself naked on their anniversary.”

“Tea?” asked Sasori.

“Please,” accepted Itachi. He turned back to the group. “I’ve been staying out the flat when I haven’t been at work so I don’t have to talk to him. I was round at Kisame’s earlier helping him with a job application, but then I left so he and Shizuma could have some father-son time.”

“Job application?” asked Konan, her ears pricking up.

“There’s a lifeguarding position at the local swimming pool,” explained Itachi. “Kisame wants it so that he can spend more time with Shizuma. It’ll be easier, what with it being regular shift work, and he won’t have to worry about irregular wages from being self-employed anymore.”

“Bless him,” said Konan, staring at the rose she was making. “He really does love that little boy, doesn’t he?”

Itachi nodded. “He adores him. And I adore the kid too, even when he’s running around under my feet in the café.”

“Shizuma is lucky to have you,” agreed Konan.

“I’m glad he’s my godson,” Itachi smiled to himself. Sasori laid a cup of tea next to him, in a mug which had the slogan _‘Don’t touch me, peasant,’_ and resumed work on Sandaime. Hidan leant back in his chair, scrolling through his phone. Itachi took a sip of his tea. They continued to work in silence for a little while, until Itachi reached halfway down his mug. He glanced back up with his dark eyes. “Actually, Konan, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you privately.”

“Sasori, may we sit in the living room?” asked Konan.

“Of course. I trust you two way more in my living room than these two,” said Sasori.

“Hey!” protested Hidan.

Itachi followed Konan into the living room, where they were greeted by twenty china dolls staring down from a cabinet at them. A pair of puppets sat perched on the sofa, one had red hair like Sasori, and the other had his grey-brown eyes. Both Itachi and Konan ignored them, as they were both well acquainted with Sasori’s eccentricities.

“I wanted to talk about my Uncle Obito,” said Itachi. “I noticed he was bothering you at the party. If it hadn’t been for Hidan already there, I would have said something. Did he…?”

“He tried to give me his business card, like usual, that was all,” assured Konan. Subconsciously, she rubbed the part of her chest where the two lines had been. “When I wouldn’t accept, he decided that the neckline of my dress was an appropriate place to put it.”

Itachi wrinkled his nose disgustedly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Konan reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m certain my family have set him up to spy on me,” said Itachi. “They’re disappointed I didn’t carry on working for the family company, disappointed that I wasted years of education and a Cambridge degree to open up a teashop. I think they’re trying to get him to sabotage me.”

“You are not a disappointment or a failure, Itachi,” comforted Konan.

“Tell that to otou-san,” muttered Itachi darkly.

“Your mother’s proud of you,” assured Konan. “I saw the way she looks at you…she adores you.”

“I hope so. I hope I’m a worthy son.”

“You’re a lovely son,” comforted Konan. “And don’t be worried. I’ve known Obito much longer. In fact, in some of my earliest communications, he would refer to himself by your Great-Uncle’s name.”

“He did that?” frowned Itachi. He ran a hand through his silky black hair, tugging some free from his ponytail.

“If I recall correctly, yes,” said Konan. “Ever since I started my business, he’s been offering to buy me out. He says that I’ll be able to pay for a carer for Nagato, buy him a powerchair, even pay for experimental treatment so he’ll be able to walk again. But it’s a lie. None of it will ever happen. He does it to the other businesses as well.”

“Don’t accept his offer, whatever you do,” urged Itachi. “I’ll warn the others.”

“I have no plans to accept his offer,” replied Konan. “But I do intend to watch his behaviour. Because I am certain that something isn’t ethical about what he’s doing.”

“You know,” Itachi moved closer to Konan, and lowered his voice. “You know I mentioned Kisame was going for a new job?”

“Yes,” said Konan.

“He said Uncle Tobi had approached him and offered to invest in him, claiming that it meant he’d have a stable wage, that it would be better for Shizuma. Kisame told him that only he could decide what was best for Shizuma, then told me about it when I was with him earlier. I told him to stay away from my uncle and that I’d find out what he was up to. But I guess Kisame has already decided…he wants the option that will give him more time to spend with his son,” Itachi stepped even closer. “Listen…if Obito ever bothers you again and so much as touches you with a fingertip, tell me, and I will smash his face in.”

Konan was taken aback by Itachi’s uncharacteristic threat. “That’s rather violent for you.”

“I mean it,” warned Itachi, taking a step back. “He had no right to bother you like that.”

Konan didn’t reply, instead staring at one of Sasori’s china dolls that stared back at her from inside an antique cabinet. Behind her, there was a rhythmic buzz, and Itachi pulled out his phone.

“Is everything all right?” asked Konan.

“Shisui,” replied Itachi, showing her the screen. Konan noticed he had saved Shisui’s contact name as ‘twat’ with the clown emoji next to it. “He’s ringing me.”

Itachi tapped the green button, and then made his way back to the dining room.

“What do you want, Shisui?” asked Itachi, sitting back down in his seat and putting the phone on loudspeaker.

“Itachi! Thank god you picked up! I’m sorry!” Shisui wailed down the phone. “I’m sorry about the stupid picture! Please take me back…I can’t bear it anymore!”

“Hmm. I’m thinking about it,” Itachi retorted, lounging back in his chair, as everyone gathered around to listen to the conversation.

“Please Itachi! I love you!”

“Oh really? You’ve got a very funny way of showing it.”

“I’ll do anything to make you take me back!”

“Such as?” asked Itachi.

“Anything! I’ll do the housework for a month!”

“Interesting,” said Itachi. “Go on.”

“I’ll do all the housework, and the cooking, and when you finish work, I’ll run you a nice hot bath and make you a cup of tea, let you choose what we watch on the tv, and rub your feet…”

“That’s right, Shisui,” said Itachi. “Keep talking.”

“I’ll come to dinner with your parents every Sunday instead of staying at home with a takeout and playing on my PS4, I’ll take Sasuke wherever he needs to go in my car so you can have a lie-in, I’ll make you breakfast in bed…”

“That sounds nice,” stated Itachi. “Keep going.”

“And I’ll…I’ll…” Shisui trailed off.

“Yes?” asked Itachi.

“I’ll let you top!”

Hidan and Deidara exploded with laughter.

“…who’s there?” asked Shisui.

“Just some friends,” replied Itachi. “Keep talking!”

Shisui sighed. “I’ll let you top, I’ll blow you whenever you want, I’ll even give you one of my nice sexy massages. So…will you take me back?”

Itachi opened his mouth to reply, but then another sound from the phone buzzed. This was quieter, and the sound of tiny mews.

“Shisui,” said Itachi. “What is that?”

Shisui was silent for a while. “…cats.”

“Why are there cats down the phone?”

“I’m at my mum’s house,” lied Shisui.

“No, you’re not,” said Itachi, his tone getting angrier. “Why are there cats in our house, Shisui?”

“Because Danzo was going to drown them! I saved them!” cried Shisui. “They were tiny and he was holding one by its neck in the pond in the park, and I just walked past and…kind of shoved him in the pond and rescued the kitten, then grabbed the others-”

“You mean you’ve adopted a litter of kittens?” demanded Itachi.

Shisui was silent for a while, before replying. “Your parents were saying they wanted grandkids, well, now they have five.”

“Shisui!” shouted Itachi.

“But you like cats!”

“You can’t adopt cats without asking!” cried Itachi.

“But you’ll like them when you meet them! And we can let Shizuma name them, he’ll love it! And we don’t have to keep all of them…I bet Izumi would like one!”

Itachi groaned and slammed the phone down. “What am I going to do?”

“Decide whether you want to be called dad, or daddy?” suggested Deidara.

Itachi sat back up. “Well. We have been together since I was fifteen. I suppose its time we became parents…even if they are cats.”

“At least you didn’t have to give birth,” stated Konan.

“That’s true, I think you win out of all of us,” admitted Itachi.

“Not quite. I can’t actually have children.”

“Oh!” Itachi flustered. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nothing to get upset about,” dismissed Konan. “Sasori…shall we have some more tea?”

“Sure,” said Sasori. He turned to Hidan. “Do you want another-”

“SNAKE!” shrieked Hidan, pointing at a long scaly tail dangling out of Sandaime’s trouser leg.

“You!” seethed Sasori. He grabbed the tail and pulled out a snake, that he held in a chokehold in his fist up this face. “I swear to god if you or anymore of your friends get in my house, I will stuff each and every one of you like kitty!”

“Why is there a snake in here?” yelped Hidan, clamouring up on the chair he sat on.

“They’re Orochimaru’s. He lives next door and his house is full of them,” replied Sasori. He gripped his fist tighter around the snake. “If you try to crawl inside of Sandaime, I’ll snap your neck. Only I can put things inside Sandaime.”

Konan watched Hidan and Deidara share horrified glances. Sasori released his grip on the snake, and its tail thrashed wildly.

“Ugly little cretin,” Sasori scolded. He opened his garden door, then grabbed a rubbish bag from his bin. Konan watched Sasori stride out into the garden, fling the snake over the fence, and then fling the rubbish bag after it.

The awkward silence was broken by nervous laughter from Hidan. Itachi joined in, and then Deidara.

“My dad hates Orochimaru,” added Itachi. “He likes and comments on every single one of my business Instagram posts, and then he started following Sasuke and doing the same to him. Mum and dad nearly made Sasuke delete Instagram, but they compromised and Sasuke set it to private.”

Sasori returned inside, dripping wet. Raindrops clung to the tendrils of his red hair and eyelashes as he glowered. “Brat, if you’re not going to make anything today, you might as well sit in the living room and put a film on for Hidan. Us three have work to do.”

Deidara climbed up, and then prodded Hidan. Konan finished the roses and reached for her laptop. She checked her emails, then replied to the questions of some of the other business owners, who had messaged concerns about the changes she wanted to make to their buildings. Konan sighed, before repeatedly typing out for what was surely the third time, that she would be fundraising to cover the costs of the renovations, and that the ramps would be adjustable and able to be removed and tucked away.

Putting that task aside, Konan returned to her manifesto, finding some of the other tasks that she wanted to attend to.

Before she began one of those, she reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone. There was the sound of Deidara and Hidan’s giggling from the other room that Konan ignored, glad that Deidara seemed happy again.

_‘Are you ok? X’_ she sent to Nagato.

_‘I’m fine. Made dinner for when you get back. Tired now. Napping on the sofa x’_ Nagato replied.

Konan was almost touched by the small ‘x’ that Nagato left at the end of his message. A calmness had settled over their house. It was still tense, that was true. No matter what happened now, the past ten years had happened, the things that Nagato had said and done to her had still happened, and Konan still lived with those memories. But now there was a calmness, an understanding between them both, and Nagato seemed to have made small minor adjustments in the ways he spoke.

Releasing the ashes remained another matter.

The topic made Nagato hysterical, and he flat out refused to even consider it. Even when Jiraiya offered to take them to one of the places they’d been to as kids, Nagato refused. When Konan instead suggested planting a tree for Yahiko, Nagato still refused. The ashes remained where they were, and Nagato watched them closely.

Konan had better things to do than continually persuade Nagato that releasing the ashes was in their best interests. That would be a longer process. What Nagato needed first was to start making some new friends, getting out of the house more, and to come to terms fully with his condition. Konan would support him in doing so, but she would not do it for him.

She slid her phone back in her pocket and carried on typing. The issue of the town’s Christmas lights had already arose, as the council had decided to offload that task to the small business committee. Konan couldn’t understand why, considering that the Christmas lights had absolutely nothing to do with the businesses and would be yet another expense to fundraise for.

She decided to leave it for now. If the worst came to the worst, Konan would set up a GoFundMe campaign to gather funds. The townspeople probably wouldn’t like it, but it would be opportunity she needed to deliver some hard truths about the finances whilst running a small town.

After they left Sasori’s, Konan decided to drive Deidara and Hidan home so they didn’t have to walk through the rain. They dropped Deidara off, and then drove back to Hidan’s. Once inside the warmth, Konan tugged off her coat, and hung it up to dry, whilst Hidan did the same. She reached for him, pulling him into an embrace.

“Is it true what you said earlier?” asked Hidan.

“About what?”

“That you couldn’t have kids.”

“Yes, that’s true,” replied Konan.

Hidan stared curiously at her, and then licked his lips nervously. “Why…why not?”

“Do you remember what Nagato said the other night, about us being unable to eat properly?” asked Konan.

Hidan nodded.

“I was underweight back then. Then when Yahiko died I didn’t take care of myself very well and ended up underweight again. My periods stopped both times. The first time, they came back when I managed to become a healthy weight again. The second time, they didn’t. So I suppose I can’t have children.”

The words came out clipped and precise. Konan tried to erase the year preceding Yahiko's death from her memory, but it always resurfaced. But Hidan had asked, and Konan felt that he deserved an answer.

“Oh,” said Hidan. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There are other things to do in life,” Konan lightly tugged at his shirt. “Anyway…aren’t you going to give me a goodbye kiss?”

Hidan seized her in his arms, and then laid her down on the kitchen table, before claiming his lips with hers. She felt his muscled arms wrap tightly around her shoulders, as if he couldn’t bare to let her go, and slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Her legs lifted up and hitched over his hips, trapping him between her thighs.

As her groin brushed against his, Konan noticed that he had gone hard within seconds. She did marvel at his stamina, but supposed that he was still young. His lips trailed down her neck, hungrily kissing and nipping at her skin, as his hand slipped up her skirt, reaching for her knickers.

“Like this?” he asked breathily.

“No, not like this,” Konan pushed him back a few paces, before standing upright, and bending over the table. “This way.”

She curved her neck backwards, enjoying the feel of Hidan’s fingers as they worked back up between her thighs, pushing away her skirt. His fingers hooked under the waistband of her knickers, tearing them off in a single movement. The simple eroticism in the action made heat pool between her legs, and she could already feel herself growing moist.

Hidan slipped inside of her easily, and she felt his hand on her back, pressing her further down. He gripped her hips as he began to thrust. Konan grabbed the edges of the table, letting him lead. This change in dynamics was interesting, and with the rapid beating of her heart, certainly a pleasing one.

Hidan slammed into her, hard and fast. With each thrust, Konan groaned loudly. She had taught him the right angle to hit her favourite spot, and he hit it now. Konan released one of her fists from the edge of the table, and banged it against the table with each thrust.

She glanced up, and looked at their reflection in the darkening window pane with lashings of violent summer rain pounding against the glass. Hidan’s eyes were fierce and burnt with desire. There was something in his posture as he leant over, that was full of cockiness and dare she admit it, dominance.

She didn’t want him to stop.

“Harder,” she managed to choke out, before releasing a shrill cry. “ _Harder_!”

Konan’s eyes practically rolled back into her head as Hidan grabbed her hair in his fist, pulling her up. His hands groped wildly at her breasts, and Konan covered his hand with hers, forcing him to squeeze harder.

He released her, then she felt his hand squeeze the flesh of her ass, and she tilted her hip back up for him. He began to pound into her even harder now, and Konan collapsed back down onto the table, allowing him to take full control while she just laid back and enjoyed.

“That’s so nice,” she managed to gasp out. “So nice…so nice…oh!”

Hidan spurted inside her, and gave one final dramatic roll of his hips. Konan felt that bundle of nerves inside of her tingle all together at once, and then fireworks exploded across her groin. She slumped face down onto the table, fighting for her breath back.

It had been ages since she’d come like that, from penetration along. The reflected image of Hidan’s fierce, furious expression was burnt into her brain, and even now, it was all she could think about.

Now, she felt Hidan’s lips lightly caress the nape of her neck, and the hot puffs of his breath, as he came down from his high.

“How was that?” he asked, and his voice was that of the bouncy, overeager little puppy again.

Konan lifted a hand, and laid it on his cheek behind her. “Perfect. That was perfect. Good boy.”

“It was?” asked Hidan. “I just saw you and I _had to have you_.”

“I know the feeling well,” admitted Konan. She ran her hand across his cheek again. “Maybe next time we’re at mine, I’ll have to get my handcuffs and whip out.”

“Handcuffs and whip?” asked Hidan.

Konan gave him a sly smirk. “Just remind me to show you _the cupboard_ , Hidan.”

“What cupboard?”

“You’ll find out. We have all the time in the world, after all,” replied Konan, and she felt her heart swelling at the prospect. That she could love again, that she and Hidan could have time together. That despite everything, there was still a chance she could live a happy life. 

* * *

When Konan opened the door of her home, her legs still trembling with arousal from Hidan’s wild lovemaking, the scent of chicken, roasted potatoes and the bubbling of vegetables on the stove greeted her. She poked her head around the living room door, to find Nagato burrowed inside an old hoodie and nestled under a blanket on the sofa.

When he saw her, he lifted his head from the cushion to greet her. “I made dinner.”

“I can smell it, it smells lovely.”

“I’m just a bit tired now,” admitted Nagato, curling his fingers into the blanket. “Cutting all the vegetables was hard work.”

“It’s ok, I’ll serve it up if it’s all done,” she assured. Konan knew how bony his arms were, how poor his body strength was. That he had gone so far to make dinner was enough for her for now. Konan understood his health problems, she knew what he could and couldn’t do, could only sometimes do, and would never have judged or made fun of him for any of it.

But his gratitude and appreciation spoke so many volumes.

They ended up eating from trays on their laps. Nagato flicked on an old movie, one they knew all the lines to and could repeat backwards, that was more of a comfort than entertainment. Konan took their trays out to the kitchen once they were done, decided that she could wash them up in the morning. She wasn’t so determined to avoid Nagato now, not now his toxicity had receded inside of himself.

Back on the sofa, Konan tucked Nagato’s blanket over herself, then felt him lean his head on her shoulder. Nagato’s hair wasn’t limp or greasy today, but instead fluffy and clung to her sweater.

“Your hair looks nice today. Did you put something on it?” asked Konan.

“I washed it in the sink earlier,” Nagato mumbled against her shoulder. “I thought it would be difficult, but I could manage.”

“That’s good,” Konan tucked her arm around his shoulder so she held him in a sisterly embrace, and gently played with a few strands. “Hey, I went to see Sasori today. Do you want me to tell you what he said?”

“Is it gossip?”

“No,” Konan shook her head. “You know he works making mobility scooters and home security devices?”

“Yes,” said Nagato.

“He said he’s working on a prototype of a powerchair,” replied Konan. “He asked if you might want to try it. If you like it, he said you can keep it.”

“I can’t afford it. They’re £15 000 and I barely make that in a year,” sighed Nagato.

“No, he said you can have it for free. All you have to do is review it and tell him what needs improving, and he can work on it some more and make it perfect. And he said you can have updated models as they build more,” explained Konan, running her hands through Nagato’s hair.

Nagato grew very quiet, before eventually speaking. “I’d be able to go out and not get tired.”

“That’s right,” said Konan. “You could go for a walk in the park and get some fresh air.”

“I still wouldn’t be able to go in the shops.”

“I’m working on that,” replied Konan. She leant down and pressed a light kiss on Nagato’s forehead, inhaling his familiar scent. She remembered how she, Nagato and Yahiko had curled up in bed as children for comfort, holding each other throughout whichever night terrors had plagued them, soothing each other back to sleep whenever they awoke, lightly singing songs, and holding hands. Jiraiya used to laugh at them, and say they looked like a pile of puppies.

Even as adults, they would sometimes curl up together beneath a collection of blankets, and watch old movies until they could recite them backwards.

“At least tomorrow you can go out,” comforted Konan. “Are you looking forward to seeing Naruto?”

“I just want to stay in bed,” admitted Nagato. “But I think once I’ve been out, I’ll feel better.”

“That’s right,” said Konan. She finished threading her fingers through his hair, and reached down and trailed a finger across his cheek. “You and I deserve to be happy, Nagato.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like this chapter? Do you think Nagato will start to feel happier about his life too soon?


	11. Summertime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan spots a familiar face at work, and overhears some interesting information...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeep! it's the second to last chapter! this kind of feels like a filler chapter, but I hope it shows some character development and leads up to the climax in the next chapter?
> 
> In the meantime, Obito is an ass, Sasori needs a hug, Naruto brings some sunshine into Nagato's day, Shizuma is adorable, and Konan is a complete queen!
> 
> There is another shoutout to my baby Shadow's beautiful OC Tsunami, can you spot her? <3

At work, Hidan gazed longingly at the clock on the wall, praying for it to be his lunch hour. It was warm and stuffy, and his concentration was lagging. Summer had well and truly arrived, and Hidan wanted to be anywhere but in this tiny office, stuffed in a suit that prickled his skin. He knew that the sooner he completed the day’s tasks, the sooner he could pack up and leave early and head down to the beach, maybe pick Deidara up and one of those disposable barbeque things so they could cook themselves a few burgers for dinner.

But for some reason, the words swam on the screen in front of him, and he couldn’t force his brain to work.

Giving up briefly, Hidan reached out and touched the money rat with his forefinger, recalling the day Konan had visited his office. He almost wished she was here now, with her feet in his lap and his in hers.

The heat prickled down the back of his neck, where his shirt collar rubbed. Hidan tugged at his collar, as he recalled their various encounters throughout the past few nights and found an urge of lust spike through him. He wanted to see her soon, wanted to pound out his heat-driven frustration into another session.

It was then that Konan seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as that moment was the particular moment that she decided was the perfect opportunity to send him a series of revealing pictures with the caption. _‘I thought I would try on some of the contents of the cupboard for you xx’_

Hidan growled with frustration, feeling his trousers grow tight and knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

It was half past twelve. Hidan decided that was a perfectly acceptable time to take his lunch. He saved his progress, got up, and went to the fridge, where the lunch Konan had packed for him when he’d left her place this morning waited. He collected it, then wandered outside into the sunshine, rubbing his eyes.

Outside, the warmth beat down on him, and Hidan yanked off his tie and shoved it in his pocket. He almost unbuttoned his shirt and pulled that off too, but figured if there was a funeral going on, that wouldn’t exactly be respectful. He hurried out of the grounds, and into the burial grounds. They were usually quieter, and he might be able to find some shade where he could remove his shirt without being bothered.

Being amongst the deceased didn’t bother Hidan. Sometimes he gazed at the names and epitaphs and wondered who they were before they came to rest here. Sometimes he noticed that some graves were more neatly tended than others, and others not so much.

Hidan carried on, heading towards some of the older graves where he was less likely to encounter any mourners. He stuck to the shade, tilting his face whenever he felt a breeze, and taking deep swigs from his bottle of water that Konan had also packed. She’d given him a lecture about drinking enough in the heat, which Hidan had initially whined throughout, then been glad of when the heat began to irritate him.

He slumped down beneath a tree, and finally ripped off his shirt. He sat and chewed the egg and cress sandwiches with seeded brown bread, then the neatly chopped carrot sticks.

Hidan was thoughtfully chewing on a carrot stick, wishing it was a spare rib, when he noticed a familiar scarred face making his way down the pathway. He clutched a bouquet of flowers, and then stopped at a grave a few paces away from Hidan. Hidan shuffled around behind the trunk of the tree but then peered out to look at the name on the grave.

_Rin Nohara._

“I brought you lilies today, from the Yamanaka’s flower shop,” explained Obito. “I hope you will like them?”

Hidan frowned, wondering why he was monologing at a grave.

Obito knelt down, and laid the flowers.

“I won’t forget you, my sweet. You didn’t deserve…” Obito trailed off, his usually threatening voice somewhat softened. “I miss you so much. All I do is for you. Remember that.”

Hidan scrunched his nose, as Obito clamoured up and dusted down his trousers. He rubbed the scarred side of his face, and then set his shoulders. Hidan reached down and picked up his lunch box, before watching as Obito walked further down into the cemetery. Hidan grabbed his shirt that he had thrown on the grass, and then followed him down, darting from tree to tree.

Obito stopped abruptly before a large, fancy grave. Hidan frowned, trying to make out what it said, and instead settled for looking at the graves beside and around it.

_Izuna Uchiha. Kagami Uchiha._

If this was Halloween and all of them popped out the graves as zombies to dance, Hidan knew he would be standing in the midst of Deidara’s worst nightmare.

Hidan took several risky steps forwards, huddling below the grave of one _Hikaku Uchiha,_ and peered through the gap at the grave that Obito was addressing.

_Madara Uchiha._

Of course, it was the infamous Madara. Hidan had heard Konan mention him a few times in passing when discussing town politics. Whilst sipping expresso in Itachi’s café, he’d heard Itachi and Shisui discussing their late great-uncle a few times. Before Madara’s death, apparently he had began to confuse Sasuke for his brother Izuna, forgot who Itachi was, and kept calling Shisui by his grandfather’s name, and couldn’t tell the difference between Mikoto and Hazuki.

But before his decline, Madara had lived in his mansion with Obito, who’d taken in after Obito’s grandmother had passed away. Apparently none of the Uchiha knew who Obito’s parents were. It could be any of them, and was somewhat a hot topic of conversation amongst the family.

“They’re all getting on rather fine without us,” stated Obito. “I don’t think they miss us at all. Fugaku and Mikoto have gone away on a cruise for their anniversary. You’d think they’d have been happy with their party, but apparently not. And I’m not completely surprised, especially not after Shisui’s antics. Did you know he put a picture of himself naked in Fugaku and Mikoto’s living room as their anniversary present? Itachi almost threw him out. But he’s taken him back since Shisui managed to win him over with a litter of kittens.”

Hidan stuffed his fist in his mouth, to stop himself from laughing as he remembered the day at Sasori’s. He and Deidara had Facetimed that evening, and screamed with laughter at the revelations about Shisui and Itachi’s sex life.

“Hazuki has yet another boyfriend. I don’t know how she manages to juggle entertaining so many lovers whilst holding down a career, but there we go. Her daughter Izumi has just moved in with her girlfriend so all I hear about from them lately is what colour to paint the kitchen. Like I care about their lesbian love pad.”

Hidan breathed out slowly around his fist, and then took in another breath, as Obito railed off a list of what the individual Uchihas were doing with various bitchy commentary.

“And then there’s me. I’m still here,” Obito’s voice softened, to a comforting tone, as he had with the woman’s grave. But it wasn’t quite so tender, nor peppered with affection. “After all this time…I know it’s what you would have wanted.”

A heavy silence weighed in the air. Hidan heard a dragonfly buzz above him, and stayed as still as possible.

“Everything that I do now is in memory of you,” whispered Obito softly. “I know what the town meant to you…”

Hidan swallowed, barely daring to breathe.

“I’m doing what you suggested with the businesses, to bring them under one management. Some of them will listen, but not all of them. That woman, that _Konan_ , is kicking up such a fuss. She won’t stand for any of what I do, even when I tell her it’s in her best interests. Foolish girl.”

Hidan almost howled with laughter, thinking to himself that Konan was the least foolish person ever, and Obito was a pompous fool. But then he wondered what exactly was Obito doing with the businesses, and why some would listen and others would not. He wondered if it fitted with the information that Konan had given him at the party.

But when he tried to recall the party again, all he could think about were the two cuts on Konan’s chest…

Hidan held himself back from charging at Obito and throttling him.

“I’ll have to see that she is removed,” said Obito.

Hidan held his breath.

“Hopefully it won’t come to force. Maybe I can do this quietly,” said Obito.

Hidan felt himself grow dizzy as he continued to hold his breath. Alarm bells blared in his brain. Removed? How? And from where?

Hidan debated the pros and cons of jumping Obito then and there, and asking questions later. Hidan knew he had the element of surprise with him, but no weapons.

And yet despite his dizziness, his senses had heightened, and he listened cautiously, anxiously waiting to see if Obito would say anything else. Blowing over the light breeze, he could hear the sound of muffled sobbing. There were many people who came to the cemetery to sob, and Hidan knew nothing was out of the ordinary, but he couldn’t help but turn his head to see who it was.

Several yards away, Sasori doubled over, clutching his shoulders with his hands, almost as if he was trying to hug himself. Tears poured down his face as he rocked back and forth, and his eyes were as red as his hair. Small wounded snuffles escaped from the back of his throat, that Hidan could hear as he lay in his advantage point, but that Obito could not as he monologued.

Hidan crawled upright, darting from grave to grave, breathing in quick rapid intakes and outtakes as he tried to recover his breath. He moved away from Obito, and towards Sasori. In one hand, he clutched his lunchbox, and the other, his now ruined shirt.

He scrambled upright when he was a few metres away from Sasori, and dug in his lunchbox for the napkin that Konan had folded into a heart. He wandered over, holding it outstretched in his hand.

“Hey Sasori?” called Hidan.

Sasori’s lidded eyes flickered up. He took a sharp intake of breath as he realised who it was, before flapping his hand at Hidan. “Go away. Go. Let me be.”

Hidan glanced at the graves, seeing that they shared the same surname as Sasori.

“Your parents?” he asked.

“I said _go away_!” ordered Sasori, frantically wiping his eyes.

Hidan glanced back to the graves of the Uchiha, realising that Obito was bowing low to Madara’s tombstone, and turning away. With his lunch hour almost finished, Hidan shoved the napkin at Sasori and then strode away, figuring that if Sasori didn’t want to talk, then he wasn’t going to try and make him.

Hidan slumped down at his desk at work, and grabbed his phone. He stared at Konan's contact number, and worried how to warn her. Perhaps what Obito had said was strictly business-talk, and not necessarily a death threat. Either way, Hidan still wanted to kill him. He held himself back, knowing what he had risked when he'd retaliated against Asuma.

Konan would know what to do.

But this wasn't a conversation he could have by text.

Instead, Hidan burrowed himself in his work. His brain was afresh with the disturbing comments he had heard, and now he charged through each task, finishing on the dot at four ‘o’ clock. Hidan decided that there was no point in loitering around, looking like he was working for the sake of looking productive, and so he marched upright, and into his car.

Once at home, Hidan decided what he needed was an extra long session at the gym while he debated what to do with the information he had heard. He grabbed his bag, and then hurried through the streets.

As he neared the shoreline, Hidan caught a splash of movement to his right. He glanced up, before spotting a red, yellow and orange blur. He gave a double-take, before realising that Nagato was shooting down the hill in his wheelchair at probably fifty miles per hour, and his mouth was open in a shriek. Then behind Nagato, there was an orange and blond blur.

Naruto, Jiraiya’s godson, perched on the back of the wheelchair whooping with laughter.

As Nagato drew nearer to the bottom of the hill, Hidan realised that Nagato was shrieking with laughter. Hidan frowned, curiously, realising that he had never seen Nagato look so happy before. At the bottom of the hill, where the terrain evened out, the wheelchair slowed, and Naruto leapt off, holding it steady when they reached the bottom.

Nagato was red in the face, and then Naruto flung himself forwards and wrapped his arms around Nagato’s shoulders in a hug. Nagato reached up with one of his bony hands and patted Naruto’s mop of spiky yellow hair.

“You’re insane,” scolded Nagato, even as he laughed.

“You were having fun, believe it!” Naruto replied.

“We both could have died!”

“But we didn’t, right?”

“You’re a crazy kid,” Nagato shook his head. “I’m going to need a nap this afternoon.”

“But first let’s go and see Itachi for some food, right?” asked Naruto.

“All right,” agreed Nagato. He patted his clothes down, and then ruffled Naruto’s hair again. “Let’s go, kiddo.”

Naruto began to wheel Nagato at a more leisurely pace. Hidan watched them go, and felt an inward sigh of relief at Nagato’s happiness. Because a happy Nagato meant a happy Konan.

Hidan continued on his way to the gym, noticing Kisame somewhat sadly tying up his boat. Shizuma perched on the harbour wall, slobbering over an ice cream that he’d managed to wipe across his face, his t-shirt, and his black curls. Mei, the woman from the city council that Konan had introduced him too at the party, sat beside Shizuma, holding him steady in one hand.

“Afternoon buddy,” greeted Hidan, leaning over the rails. “Why the long face?”

“It’s my last ever shift,” explained Kisame. “I start my new job next week. I’m keeping the boat and fishing as a hobby for now. Since little monster here likes going out and looking for the sharkies, don’t you?”

“Sharkies!” shrieked Shizuma.

Kisame leant forwards and pinched Shizuma’s cheek affectionately.

“Mei brought him here to come and meet me when I finished. We were going to go out for an ice cream together, but Shizuma decided he wanted his now,” explained Kisame.

“My ice cream,” stated Shizuma.

“Let me wipe your cheeks,” offered Mei, reaching out with a wet wipe. Shizuma lifted his chin and allowed her to wipe it away. “Good boy.”

“Now I’m going to eat it all up!” Shizuma stuck his face back in the ice cream.

“Mei and I have been friends for years,” explained Kisame. “We went to school together.”

“With Zabuza,” added Mei. “But he’s married now, to Haku.”

“Is that the guy who looks girlier than Deidara?” asked Hidan.

“Hidan,” scolded Kisame.

“I tease Dei all the time and say Haku is prettier than him, he goes mental,” Hidan snickered. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Dei in ages.”

“I spotted him with Obito Uchiha the other day,” replied Kisame. Hidan swallowed. _Obito_ , yet again. “I didn’t say hello, Itachi has warned me to stay away from Obito. And Mei was telling me about some of his other antics the other night.”

“Bad man,” stated Shizuma.

“Oi you,” scolded Kisame. “You shouldn’t stay up late listening to daddy talking!”

Shizuma laughed mischievously.

“It’s true,” replied Mei. She tossed a sultry look in Hidan’s direction, and all of a sudden he was reminded of Konan, with her charm and easy confidence. But Mei seemed more of an open book than Konan, and definitely more openly flirtatious. Once she had captured his gaze, she began to talk. “I succeeded Yagura on the city council. And honestly…what a mess. Apparently he’d been taking advice from Obito to make council decisions. More like he was a puppet.”

“Really?” asked Hidan. He didn’t understand how the city council was run, or even who was on it. But this sounded interesting.

“Really,” said Mei. “The amount of work I have had to do to sort out his mess and make some actual progress was ridiculous. But I think the town is better for it. Hopefully now I can concentrate on some pressing matters.”

“I see,” said Hidan, although he really didn’t.

“If you get a chance, maybe you should check on Dei,” said Kisame. “I would have done, but I had Shizuma with me, and I don’t want any more…”

“Drama,” finished Mei.

At that, Shizuma’s ice cream slide from his grasp and into the water. Shizuma immediately wailed loudly.

“Oh dear,” Mei knelt down, and then rubbed Shizuma’s back comfortingly. “Oh dear, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll buy you another one.”

“You don’t have to,” said Kisame quickly. “I’ll get it for him.”

“No, I’ll get it for him,” said Mei. “We’ll all have one as my treat. Hey, Shizuma, shall we all have ice creams this time?”

“I want that one!” Shizuma insisted, pointing at the ice cream pooling in the lapping water.

“No, that one is gone now. I’ll get you a new one,” replied Mei.

Shizuma snivelled, then pouted, sticking out his lower lip. He looked so funny that Hidan couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“That’s it, good boy,” said Mei.

“I’ve got a clean shirt for him in the car. Five clean shirts, actually,” said Kisame.

Mei combed her fingers through Shizuma’s hair, untangling sticky ice cream knots. “Haven’t you got lovely hair? You’ll be a handsome boy when you’re older. Just like daddy.”

Hidan watched Kisame flush pink, before he figured the best thing to do would be to leave them to it. He waved them goodbye, and carried on his way. When he looked back over his shoulder, he noticed them trotting along, both holding one of Shizuma’s little hands in theirs.

Hidan wandered past the community centre, and then peered in through the window. Konan stood at the front of the room, utterly dominating the meeting. Her hands were on her hips, and her expression was disdainful.

Perhaps she was scolding someone, and Hidan laughed gleefully at who ever was on the receiving end of that. 

* * *

Steam clung to the window panes, but Hidan didn’t care about the condensation or what Kakuzu would say. Sitting on the opposite side of the tub was Konan, one of her feet resting on his shoulder, the other laying across his stomach. He gently trailed his fingertips along her smooth leg, travelling along the defined calve, the usually slim ankle, and gentle arch. But tonight, Konan’s ankles looked swollen and puffy.

“What happened to your ankles?” asked Hidan.

Konan glanced down, her wet hair trailed on the surface of the water as it dangerously lapped against the edge of the tub. She wriggled her toes. “I think I’ve been on my feet too much.”

“You should relax more,” scolded Hidan.

Konan gave him a wry smile. “Would that I could. Things are only really just getting started.”

“I saw you in action the other day,” said Hidan. “I’d have hated to be on the receiving end…or maybe not.”

“If you’d been on the receiving end, then you would have been Obito Uchiha,” replied Konan.

“Ew. No thanks.”

Konan laughed softly. Hidan smiled again, before deciding to tell her about what he had heard from Mei and Kisame.

“I saw Kisame with Shizuma and Mei earlier,” said Hidan, tilting his head so that he gazed at Konan fondly. “Shizuma’s a cute kid, isn’t he?”

“He’s a sweetheart,” replied Konan. “Kisame is so good with him. And he’s so brave, being on his own with the little one. I don’t know how I’d cope if I was on my own with a baby.”

“He was with Mei,” Hidan repeated. “And they seemed pretty cosy.”

Konan raised a thin eyebrow. “Oh, did they?”

Hidan nodded, but his eyes were fixated on her features. “How come your eyebrows are always so thin?”

“I plucked them off in the early noughties,” replied Konan, smoothing one into place with a finger. “It was the fashion at the time. I suppose you’d have just been a kid back then. And I think it suits me better than full brows.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Konan trailed her foot along his muscled abdomen. Hidan laughed, and then clutched her toes in his hand. Konan wriggled them, trying to free herself, before giving up. She prodded him with her toe. “So. What did Kisame and Mei say about Obito?”

“Well, Shizuma called him a bad man,” replied Hidan. “Then Mei talked about her work on the council. She said she succeeded someone called Yagura?”

“Yes, she did,” said Konan. “He was awful, perhaps the worst that the town has had. But she’s really managed to turn things around, if you ask me.”

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been here long,” replied Hidan.

“She’s a beautiful lady, isn’t she?” remarked Konan. “I’m glad she was with Kisame. She’s wanted to find love and happiness for _years_.”

“He’ll treat her like a queen,” agreed Hidan, and he knew that there was absolutely no doubt about that. He nibbled his lip. “Hey, um, I found something out at work.”

“Did you?” asked Konan.

“I saw Sasori crying,” said Hidan.

“Oh. Of course,” Konan played with her lip piercing. “It must be the anniversary.”

“Of what?”

“His parents’ deaths,” replied Konan. “I’ll take him one of my bouquets. I usually do. He loves them.”

“He’ll like that,” nodded Hidan, thinking to himself that Konan could comfort Sasori better than he could. He glanced back up at her, at her lovely face, her slender neck, and the sweet little toes that rested against his stomach. Fury rose inside of him as he recalled Obito’s words, that he could potentially harm or hurt the beauty that sat before him, that was Hidan’s. He lifted his torso up slightly, and Konan’s foot dragged lower as he did so. “I also saw something else.”

“Yes?” asked Konan.

“I saw Obito Uchiha,” said Hidan.

Konan frowned. “What was he doing?”

“He was at Madara’s grave,” replied Hidan. “But before that, he put a load of lilies on some dead girl’s grave. He called her ‘my sweet’ so it was probably his girlfriend or something. But then he started monologuing a load of shit about how he was doing everything that Madara wanted and he said stuff about you.”

Konan narrowed her eyes. “What did he say?”

“That you were kicking up a fuss about everything he said and did, that he knew what was in your best interests-”

“Like hell he knows what’s in my best interests,” spat Konan. “Continue.”

“He said he would see to it that you are removed.”

Konan threw back her head and laughed.

“It’s not funny! I was worried!” protested Hidan.

Konan stopped laughing. “Like hell he could ever remove me.”

“He was talking about using force!” protested Hidan.

“And I would put him in a box,” said Konan confidently.

“Not if I don’t put him in one first,” Hidan clenched his fists. “I was holding myself back from strangling him to pieces earlier. I had some coffins nearby I could have stuffed him in. And buried him while I was at it.”

“Good decision,” said Konan. “The last thing you need is to get fired for starting a fight in a cemetery.”

“Hey, has there been any progress with Nagato?” asked Hidan. “About the ashes?”

“He still doesn’t want to let them go,” said Konan.

“I saw him shooting down a hill with Naruto earlier. He was laughing and smiling,” said Hidan.

“Laughing and smiling, hmm?” asked Konan. Hidan watched as her eyes lit up, and she reclined back in the water, letting it lap over her body. “That’s good. That’s progress.”

“You think he’s coming to terms with himself and everything now?” asked Hidan.

“Maybe. It’s a process that could take years. But I have set new boundaries. I am willing to be a supportive friend, but I will not be responsible or accountable for his personal happiness anymore,” said Konan. She tilted her head. “Did I mention that we’re thinking…in a few months time…of living separately?”

Hidan was taken aback. “Oh?”

“Nagato wants some independence. I think it will be good for him. And I think…I think it will be nice for us to go back to being friends again, without the complication of me being his carer. What do you think?”

Hidan still didn’t quite care for Nagato, if he was completely honest, and struggled to see what Konan liked about him. But it wasn’t his decision to make, it was Konan’s. So instead he smiled, and shrugged. “I’m happy if you’re happy.”

Konan smiled back. “It will be weird to sell the house and go somewhere else.”

Hidan’s heart thudded. “Somewhere else?”

“Still in this town, silly! Just a different house,” replied Konan.

“Like where?”

“Anywhere! It’s up to me,” said Konan. “But didn’t you say that you were thinking of moving on from your work too?”

“I was thinking about it,” admitted Hidan. “But I…things have only just started getting good here.”

Despite the incident a few months ago where he had put Asuma in the hospital, it was more or less true. Things had worked out better than he could have ever hoped. Sometimes it felt like a trick, that he would wake up and it would all be gone, or something was looming on the horizon that could potentially steal it all away.

But for now, Hidan was doing all the things that they had said he never could when he was a child. He had achieved a degree, he had managed to hold down a job, he had a flat that he hadn’t been kicked out of, he had some friends who seemed to genuinely like him for who he was, and now…

He was adjusting to having a partner in his life.

It was funny. Hidan had to switch around his daily priorities and think of someone else before he thought of himself when he made decisions now. Before, most of his decisions were centred with Jashin at the forefront, and he based his day around his rituals. Now he based his rituals around his day. Adjusting felt unusual, but at the same time, Hidan couldn’t decide if it was wrong or not. Sometimes, it felt very right and natural. He knew he ought to think it was a bad thing, but he just couldn’t bring himself to.

Why?

He hadn’t even cut himself since Konan asked him not to. Hidan gave a quick glance at the healed scar on his arm, and with a sudden realisation, noticed that he hadn’t even missed it. His head had been so absorbed with other things, that he’d forgotten about it. How could he have forgotten?

Hidan swallowed, almost guiltily, but then glanced back up at Konan’s amber eyes watching him. The touch of her body pressing against his in the water brought him back into the room.

_Maybe I am growing up?_

The thought made Hidan suddenly feel sad, as if he was leaving a part of himself behind. But what loomed ahead looked better than what lingered behind, and more of Hidan felt as though he wanted to embrace it, rather than to run from it. He swallowed, before focusing his attention back on the most important person in the room.

“We should take a holiday,” said Konan. “I haven’t been abroad in years.”

Hidan felt his lips spread in a smile. “I’ve got some vacation days saved up.”

“And I can go whenever I feel like,” added Konan. “How about a long weekend? And where do you want to go? Beach? Countryside? City?”

“I’m happy wherever, so long as I’m with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter...Konan confronts Obito, and Hidan receives a 'surprise.'


	12. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konan confronts Obito about his devious plans, but finds herself his latest victim. But Hidan won't let him get away with it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I can't believe this is the last chapter guys, I have so much to tie up here, I hope it all makes sense! <3
> 
> As a heads up, in this chapter there is violence towards a pregnant woman. I would like to make it clear that this is abhorrent behaviour, and that if anyone would like to skip it, it is in the first half of the chapter. I will not be upset or offended if you don't wish to read it.
> 
> Also! Nagato finally gives Konan what she deserves after his treatment - a big fat apology.

Konan found that as the mornings grew chilly, she needed a warm, oversized sweater to wear whilst working in her hut. She pulled on a soft grey cashmere sweater over her smart blouse and black leather trousers, bade goodbye to Nagato, making sure he had clean warm clothing in case he wanted to go out too, and then shivered through the falling leaves down to the seafront.

The brisk wind skimmed over the waves chilled her to her bones, and so she draped an oversized scarf over her shoulders too. Her blue fingers folded, creating roses, lilies, orchids, wrapping them together into bouquet after bouquet. As the day wore on, Konan felt herself feeling tired, so she perched on her stool, taking a few deep breaths. Her body felt sluggish and heavy, and she wanted nothing more than to return home and take a nap on her bed.

But there was still work to be done. Konan perched each of her creations in decorative vases around the hut, and then opened her laptop at her desk, and trailed through her emails, printing various documents that Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, and many of her other friends had sent her. Soon, she had a pile the size of a doorstop, that she fastened together and tucked in a plastic wallet. Konan gave it one final flick through, a determined glint in her amber eyes, before tucking it inside her black leather handbag.

“Hey baby!” greeted Hidan, marching straight in. He lifted Konan from her seat and seized her in an enthusiastic hug. “Aren’t you cold down here?”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” replied Konan.

Hidan nuzzled closer. “You should get a little heater to keep you warm in here…I’ll get you one.”

“I’m all right for now,” assured Konan, patting his silvery hair.

“My hands are numb,” complained Hidan. He slipped them under her sweater. Konan gasped as his cold hands came into contact with her warm skin. He ran them along her stomach, heading up to breasts. “Warm them up for me.”

Konan felt a sharp pinch on each of her nipples.

“Ow!” she yelped, shoving him away.

Hidan looked at her, confused.

“That bloody hurt!” scolded Konan. “Why did you pinch them so hard?”

“I didn’t,” frowned Hidan. “I just touched them like normal.”

“Well, don’t,” Konan folded her arms. They still hurt, even now. Her whole chest hurt, in fact. “And not here, you idiot. What if a customer walks by?”

“They won’t be out in this,” Hidan waved a hand towards the rolling waves.

“Let me be,” Konan patted her sweater back into place, and tucked the scarf around herself.

“What’s the matter?” asked Hidan.

“Nothing is the matter.”

“Something is the matter,” pressed Hidan. “Every time I see you now, you’re stressed or worrying about something.”

“I am stressed and worrying about things, I’m a representative trying to install ramps in every single small business in town, and I’m trying to arrange the Christmas lights,” retorted Konan.

“Don’t you like me anymore?” asked Hidan.

“Of course I like you,” replied Konan, patting his cheek. “Now is just not a good time. You should go back to work, Hidan. It’s Friday afternoon and I have a meeting after lunch. I’ll see you properly afterwards. I need to talk to you anyway.”

Hidan leant forwards to kiss her forehead, and Konan leant her head on his chest. Her nipples still ached from his pinch, and Konan wanted to rub them to soothe them, but knew if she touched them more, then they’d hurt more.

Instead, Hidan released her and wandered back reluctantly along the seafront. Konan sat down and shivered inside of her sweater, wanting nothing more than to go home and lie down in front of the heater with a hot drink. But she had a meeting this afternoon, and it wouldn’t do to want to go home.

Konan reluctantly pulled her sweater off, folded it up and laid it behind the counter. She pulled on a smart blazer jacket, and then a long black trench coat. With that done, she made her way out into the cold autumn air, and marched along to the community centre. As she walked, her ankles ached, whining at her to sit down. As soon as she arrived, Konan went straight to the bathroom, and then re-emerged to take her place at the front of the room.

“It’s come to my attention that there are still issues regarding the Christmas lights,” began Konan. “Namely that we need to pay for brackets, because of health and safety. I’m already putting into place plans to make a GoFundMe and to ask for support from the townspeople, since its their town and they want the lights so badly-”

“They won’t like that,” stated Obito.

“That’s too bad,” replied Konan. “If they don’t have lights they’ll complain. We don’t have the funding and won’t receive it from any other sources. Something’s got to give, and if they don’t want to donate, they don’t have to.”

She turned her eyes away from Obito disdainfully, and then showed a printed draft of the information she intended to post on the GoFundMe campaign that she would create. Konan had already created a small business committee Facebook, Twitter and Instagram page where they could post information and promote themselves, and she explained her plans to post the GoFundMe campaign on there too.

As the meeting came to a close, Konan felt her ankles giving way again. She flexed her feet, deciding that she had put too much work into this moment to let it blow away now, and for no better reason than fatigue. She watched as Obito reached for a black coat, before laying her hands on the table in front of her.

“Now before we all leave, I have something I need to say to Obito,” she announced.

He froze, and remained in his seat. Everyone turned to look at him. _Perfect._

“I know what you’re doing,” she barked across the room. “And I won’t stand for it. Neither will my friends.”

A contemplative silence fell across the room, as everyone glanced up to look at Konan and Obito.

“What am I doing?” asked Obito.

“You’re destabilising the town,” announced Konan. “You’re running business down economically and socially. I have evidence, if everyone would like to take a look at it.”

With that, Konan slapped the papers on the desk. Itachi reached for it, and then flicked it open, before glaring at his uncle.

“My Great-Uncle was a co-founder of this town,” admitted Obito. “He put his heart and soul into it. Then he was passed over for mayor, for recognition of his achievements.”

“Oh, not this again…” groaned Itachi. “He’s dead, for goodness sake!”

“And so you’re trying to take over the small businesses so that you can use them as pawns in your crusade,” stated Konan.

She took a bold step forwards, and stared down at his scarred face.

“But I won’t stand for it. Neither will any of my friends. We are not prepared to lie back and be your collateral damage in whatever you have planned, nor will we be any assets or allies in your vicious little plot. You should be prepared for our resistance.”

Obito stared speechlessly at her.

“Now, if you’ll be so kind,” Konan narrowed her eyes. “Get. Out.”

Obito stared around the room, as every small business owner glared at him, and wordlessly denounced him. He grabbed his coat and stormed out. Konan breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“Do you think he’s really gone?” asked Itachi.

“He better be,” stated Konan. “He better be.” 

* * *

In the light yet miserable autumn drizzle that began after the meeting, Konan found herself leaning on the edge of the pier, gazing over at the lurid grey waves, wanting a moment for herself. Even in the dreary wet gaze, Konan felt content, and at peace.

In her pocket, she pulled out a receipt from Tesco where she had bought Nagato a box of Milk Tray chocolates to celebrate him getting a new part-time job at a legal firm. It wouldn’t pay much, and was very much an entry position suited to someone entry level or someone who had to balance other commitments, but it was something. Nagato could manage it with his energy levels and his painkillers. And it might help him to feel happier and more independent.

Konan folded the receipt into a small boat, before a gust of wind blew it into the water. She reached in her pocket again, seeking another one, and instead found a small hard stick.

Of course. It would be finished by now.

Konan pulled it out, and stared at the result.

_Positive._

Impossible.

That was impossible.

But there it was, before her very eyes.

“You should have stayed quiet, you know,” sighed a voice.

Konan rolled her eyes. She stuffed the test back in her pocket, and turned to face the addressee.

“Things will end so badly for you now,” announced Obito.

“Of course they will,” scorned Konan. “I let you get away lightly. You would do well to crawl back to your great-uncle’s mansion and hole up in your own darkness and misery, rather than exploit that of others.”

“I won’t.”

“Then be prepared for our resistance,” warned Konan. “Remember, Nagato is a lawyer.”

“Nagato is confined to a wheelchair,” scolded Obito.

“Nagato is a _wheelchair user_ ,” corrected Konan. “And he is still a lawyer. Neither of us will accept your offer. Neither will any of our friends. I will report you.”

“How?”

“I can make a convincing case. I know exactly the right things to say. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again,” threatened Konan, stepping forwards to meet him. The wind whipped up her hair around her face, flying over her bun, and the little flower that she wore beside it. He words caught on the wind, and travelled over the roiling waves. “Remember Hanzo? Oh, Nagato and I dragged him through the absolute mud for Yahiko. We rinsed him for all that he had. We claimed every single penny he had in compensation for our loss. We even managed to pay off our mortgage!”

Already her mind was whirling with thoughts of what she could do to Obito. If she won damages from him for the emotional distress, then that would see her comfortably set up for the imminent arrival.

“You won’t get the chance,” replied Obito, and then he lunged for her.

Konan ducked and rolled out the way, and Obito slammed against the railings of the pier, before staggering backwards. Konan reached forwards, delivering a short, sharp slap to his face. It was a slap for his insults to Nagato and his callous dealings with her friends.

Obito grabbed her by the hand as she pulled away, and Konan yelled as he dragged her. She wrenched herself free, stumbling on her heels.

Obito lunged again, and this time, his hand caught her throat. Konan felt his single hand clench around her slender neck, and then tighten. She choked, and then her hands were at his hand, scrabbling frantically as she tried to free herself. Konan felt the vessels in her eyes explode, and her scrabbling grew more desperate. She kicked at him with her heels, shook her hips back and forth, trying to be as difficult to clutch as possible. She tried to cry out in protest, but her words died in her throat.

All that escaped were a few choked rasps for breath.

“You’re…you’re _insane,_ ” Konan managed to splutter.

She felt Obito take several steps forwards. Konan wavered dangerously in the air, and then she realised that Obito was holding her over the edge of the railings that had bent backwards where she had previously escaped his clutches, above the rolling waves. Her movements went still, knowing that now if she were to struggle free and release herself, she would only doom herself to a fall into the sea. Her voice went silent, as she knew that any word from her could antagonise him further.

“Meddling bitch,” stated Obito.

And then he dropped her.

Konan plummeted backwards, tumbling down into the sea. Her coat flapped and spread in the wind like an angel’s gown. The cold autumn water struck her like a hard embrace, and Konan froze upon the impact with shock. Her eyes closed, and she felt the waves drag her over and under and then back up again. Her hair spread like a halo around her face, drenched to the root. Droplets formed on her face, although whether they were tears, sea spray or rain drops, no one could have told.

_I am going to die here._

Too shocked to try and swim and save herself, Konan felt her body convulse with shivers, and then everything grew foggy and distant. 

* * *

_“Konan, come on! Nearly there!”_

_Yahiko and Nagato’s shouts of joy pierced her thoughts. They ran through the wet fields, towards their treehouse, each of them holding their rain macs over their head. They whooped with laughter, helping each other up the slippery branches and huddling inside. Nagato’s wet red hair stuck to his head like a seal, and Konan ruffled it, so it stuck up in spikes like Yahiko’s._

_“You’re twins now!”_

_Nagato nestled his head against Konan’s shoulder. Yahiko wrapped his arms around both of them, and they listened to the pitter-patter of the rain, the drumming of their heartbeats, and felt the room fill with their love for one another._

_And then there was Jiraiya, throwing her up in the air and catching her again while she screeched with gleeful laughter, before lifting her up onto his arm, hauling Yahiko onto his shoulders, and lifting Nagato with his other arm. Konan snuggled against his chest, and felt him lightly kiss her forehead._

_And then he was tucking them into bed as they burrowed under their mountains of blankets, each holding hands. Konan squeezed between the two boys, as they each held her tightly, the covers drawn up to their heads._

_“Like a pile of puppies,” Jiraiya ruffled each of their hair, then kissed their foreheads. “Night kids. You’re all safe for the night. You’re safe here at home.”_  

* * *

All her hopes…all her dreams…all her work…it would be finished here…sinking to the bottom of the water.

_No._

She didn’t deserve to die.

Konan’s eyes blasted open, and stung from the salty water. She squeezed them shut tightly again, and then kicked against the water, before riding the force of the waves upwards. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped for air, reopening her eyes to assess her location. The water had dragged her a good few metres away from the pier where she had fallen, and was dragging her further out even now.

Konan felt her hair stick to her forehead, and her clothes sag with the weight of the water, but nonetheless, she urged her body forwards, swimming breaststroke back towards the pier she had tumbled from. Each wave of water slammed against her, and fought against her, as she sought to reach safety.

But Konan persevered.

She did not deserve to die.

After fighting the current for what felt like an eternity, her hands grasped out and reached one of the metal support poles holding up the pier. She dragged herself from the water, her feet taking hold in each of the horizontal metal poles. Her will to survive drove her, and before she knew it, her hands clasped the wooden planks of the edge of the pier. She hauled her body over, wary of the drop down into the water yet again, and then crawled forwards.

Obito staggered in a chokehold, as Hidan clenched his fists around his neck instead.

“How fucking dare you!” he roared. His eyes were wide with anger, and determination. There was even a demented twisted glint in his eyes as he choked Obito.

“Hidan, put him down!” ordered Konan, her blue lips juddering with the effort of speaking, as she staggered upright to her feet.

Hidan turned, and drew a sharp intake of breath when he caught sight of her. Relief washed over his features, and were those tears trickling from the inner corners of his eyes?

“He’s not worth it,” Konan stated simply, even as she choked up the sea water. “And I have a better plan for him.”

“He hurt you!” insisted Hidan, tightening his grip. “He tried to kill you! I saw him!”

“And I have a fate worse than death for him,” Konan replied calmly, regaining control of her throat. “Release him.”

Hidan loosened his grip on Obito’s neck. “I really hope what she has planned for you is worse than death, you fucking lunatic!”

Konan coughed again, releasing a turret of water from her lungs. She coughed and felt her eyes water, but even through her tears, noticed that Sasori, Deidara, Itachi, Kisame with little Shizuma, Kakuzu, and even Nagato wheeling himself at a frantic pace, were making their way up the pier.

“You stay away from Konan,” warned Deidara. “Or I’ll shove a bomb through your front door.”

“Bad man!” pointed Shizuma.

_They all came. And they came for me._

Nagato wheeled himself straight over, and then held out the blanket that he usually wore over his lap to himself warm.

“Konan, dear,” he comforted. “Its all right. The police are on their way. You’re safe now.”

Konan shivered, as the freezing water clung to her, and the cold autumn chill whistled through her veins. Exhaustion from the fall, the swim, and the climb back up the pier racked through her muscles to her very bones. She shuddered violently, before sagging heavily onto Nagato’s lap. She felt the blanket tucked around her, as Nagato held her for the first time in many years, and murmured words of comfort to her.

Konan relaxed, and let him hold her, closing her eyes and allowing herself to be cared for. 

* * *

When the paramedics arrived, Nagato told them to let Hidan travel with Konan, knowing very well that his wheelchair wouldn’t fit in the vehicle. He followed behind, in the front passenger seat of Itachi’s car, finding himself unable to make any kind of conversation. He let Itachi wheel him through the halls of the hospital, feeling himself go numb, as he usually did whenever he neared a hospital. They had too many bad memories for him, after all.

When he found Konan, she lay wearing a breathing mask and a hideous hospital gown, with a blanket tucked up over her waist. Several machines bleeped in a chorus to the rhythm of her vitals, each of them hooked to a different part of her.

Hidan sat at her side, his larger hands clutching one of hers. His fingers stroked the soft skin in a circular pattern. Nagato reached forwards, and clasped Konan’s other hand in his own. In the past few weeks, Nagato noticed that his hands, whilst still bony and birdlike, had began to fill out again and there was less than a millimetre layer of fat beneath his skin again. They were no longer white-grey, but instead a very pale porcelain pink.

“Konan, I’m sorry,” whispered Nagato, and his voice was husky with emotion. Emotion that Nagato hadn’t expressed in years poured itself out. His tone wasn’t morose, or deprecating, or miserable, but raw and filled with pain and regret. “You’re my sister. You’ve looked after me through all these years and asked for nothing in return. And all I ever did was take you for granted. I’m sorry, Konan.”

Nagato rubbed his hands over hers, trying to bring some warmth into hers.

“I’m going to get better. I’ll have the chair that Sasori is making for me, and I’ll start going out, and talking to people. I’ll get some help, professional help, and talk to someone who can help me, and try to come to terms with my condition. Then I’m going to try and start some new physiotherapy or water therapy, and try and make my upper body stronger so I can look after myself more. And then I’ll look after you. It’s my turn to look after you.”

Nagato squeezed her hand tightly.

“I’ve treated you so badly,” Nagato sobbed, his shoulders wracking his thin frame. “I’m such an ass. I was so depressed and lonely, I didn’t know how to cope. I just took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I blamed you when I shouldn’t have. When you tried to help and look after me, all I did was use you as an outlet for all my feelings. I’m sorry. I know it was ok for me to feel upset the way I did, but the way I acted to you wasn’t. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should go home and rest, Nagato,” suggested Hidan.

Nagato shook his head, then clutched Konan’s hand determinedly. “No. I said I’d look after her.”

“You can’t look after her if you’re tired and in pain,” Hidan put his hand on Nagato’s shoulder. “Itachi will take you home.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” admitted Nagato, and it was true. When he really was on his own, he was terrified that something would happen to him, and no one would find him. One day, maybe he would overcome that anxiety, but today was not to be the day.

“You can stay at mine,” offered Itachi, leaning in the doorway. “I think everyone went back to the café for a drink after I brought us here. I hope you like cats, though. Shisui spotted Danzo Shimura trying to drown a litter of kittens in the pond down the park and adopted them on the spot. Mum and dad have gone from complaining about not having any grandkids to having five.”

“I like cats,” said Nagato. He kissed Konan’s hand, and then returned it to the bed she lay on. Itachi clasped the handles of his chair, and wheeled him out. Nagato turned for one last look at Konan, and watched as Hidan sat down in the little chair beside her bed.

Strangely, Nagato didn’t even find himself feeling angry or jealous.

Konan deserved all the happiness she could find in the world.

* * *

Hidan sat for a moment, his hands clasped together in prayer, before standing upright.

Hidan removed the Jashinist pendant from around his neck. He wanted to do a ritual, to transfer Konan’s suffering to him, but she’d asked him not to. Instead, Hidan bent over, and tied the pendant around her neck, tucking it beneath her hospital gown.

Now Jashin would watch over her.

Hidan lifted her hand, and kissed it.

“Please, Jashin, in your mercy. Don’t take her away from me,” he begged.

He heard a sigh, and then an incoherent mumble. When he glanced down, Konan’s amber eyes blinked sleepily at him.

“Konan,” Hidan urgently leant over, cradling her head in his hands, and then pulling the mask from her mouth so that she could talk. “Konan, sweetheart, are you all right?”

“You came for me,” Konan mumbled sleepily. “You all came for me.”

Hidan trailed his thumb across her cheek. “That’s right. We couldn’t leave you like that.”

“He just dropped me in,” sobbed Konan. “He just threw me over the railings and left me to die.”

“Sssh, sssh, he’s arrested now,” comforted Hidan. He kissed her forehead. “I was so terrified I’d lose you. Konan…I love you.”

Konan reached up, and lightly caressed the hands he held her face with. “I love you too.”

The words were foreign to Hidan, but they felt right.

“I love you,” he repeated over and over. “I love you. I love you more than I love myself. I can’t lose you. I love you. You’re part of my life now.”

Konan pulled him closer, so his head lay on her chest, then curled her fingers into his silvery hair. Relief surged through him, and Hidan closed his eyes with exhaustion.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” murmured Konan softly.

Hidan turned his head over to face her. “Hmm?”

“Do you like kids?” asked Konan.

Hidan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t have much experience with them, why?”

Konan gazed intently at him. “You like Shizuma, don’t you?”

“Shizuma’s a good kid,” replied Hidan.

“Well, how would you like one of your own?”

Hidan stared at her. Then he broke into a goofy smile. “You’re not…?”

Konan nodded. “I found out this afternoon. I’d been feeling all sick and tired for weeks, and I just thought, maybe…maybe there’s a chance…”

“But…you said you couldn’t have them!”

“I always assumed I’d never be able to, but I never bothered to check it out,” admitted Konan. “I did the test after my meeting, and it came back positive. I was wrong for all those years. So would you…would you like that?”

Hidan thought about it. He remembered his own childhood, but then shoved it to the back of his mind. It didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t going to have a relationship with his parents, or anyone he knew growing up.

But he could make new bonds and connections with people now. He could just imagine laughing at the baby vomiting on Kakuzu, forcing Deidara to change a shitty nappy, watching the kid run wild through Sasori’s house and messing up his puppets, stealing cookies from Itachi’s café, splashing Kisame in the face at the swimming pool, and the thought made him grin.

He met Konan’s cautious amber eyes as he laid his hand on her tummy. “I’d love it.” 

* * *

Kakuzu let Shisui refill his pot of tea, and then watched as Shizuma stole another cookie from the counter. Kakuzu noticed that Shisui noticed that the toddler had done so, but evidently didn’t seem bothered by it, as he just smiled and ruffled Shizuma’s black curls before sitting back down at the end of the table with Itachi, Deidara and Nagato as they played one of the board games that Itachi kept stacked beside the counter.

Sasori and Kisame leant over the table, talking in low voices about Obito. Kakuzu half-heartedly listened, wondering if Hidan was ok. He reminded himself for the millionth time that he didn’t care about Hidan, that Hidan was just his tenant, and a nuisance tenant at that.

The door tinkled. Kakuzu glanced up, to notice Hidan himself slipped inside.

“Hidan, what is it?” asked Kakuzu, standing up. He stared at Hidan’s blank face. “Did something happen? Is it bad news?”

Hidan shook his head.

“What is it?” demanded Kakuzu, suddenly expecting the worst. He strode through the room and laid his hands on Hidan’s shoulders. “Hidan, speak to me.”

Hidan lifted his head up properly to announce the gathered group as they watched with concern. “I am going to have a baby.”

“How?” asked Deidara, staring intently at Hidan’s stomach.

“Konan is pregnant!” retorted Hidan.

Kakuzu’s face fell, and he released Hidan from his hold. “What?”

“Konan is pregnant,” replied Hidan. When the room remained silent, he spoke again. “You know, she has a baby in her belly.”

“But…I gave you condoms!” roared Kakuzu. “What did you do with them?”

“I gave them to Deidara,” replied Hidan.

Kakuzu’s bloodshot eyes swivelled from Hidan, to Deidara, then back again. “Why did you give them to _Deidara_?”

Hidan stared indignantly at Kakuzu. “Because it was our first date and I couldn’t exactly pull out a bumper pack of condoms, could I?”

“It’s better than having unprotected sex!” shouted Kakuzu. “Have you any idea of what you’re in for now? Children are expensive! Right, Kisame?”

“They are,” said Kisame. He ruffled Shizuma’s hair. “But this little guy is worth every penny.”

Almost as if to prove Kakuzu’s point, Shizuma smiled sweetly at his dad, before announcing to the whole room. “I want a car.”

“Very cute,” Kakuzu stated, fighting to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “What if it doesn’t work out, Hidan? You’ll be stuck paying child support for eighteen years. And what if Konan doesn’t like the baby and leaves it with you? Then you’re stuck raising it and paying for it by yourself, like Kisame has to.”

“Kakuzu!” barked Kisame. “I love my son, thank you very much. And I’d appreciate it if we weren’t having this kind of conversation in front of him.”

Shizuma seemed none the wiser, as he simply clamoured on Kisame’s lap. “I love my dad!” he chirruped.

“You’re thirty-three and Hidan is twenty-two,” replied Kakuzu. “You can take of yourself, and a child. Hidan can’t even do his own laundry. He needs help.”

“They will have help,” spoke Nagato quietly. “Because they’ll have all of us.” 

* * *

Jiraiya lifted Nagato’s wheelchair out of the back of his car, and then lifted Nagato out from the front passenger seat of the car, settling him in the wheelchair. He tucked a blanket over his legs, and then turned to accept the urn from Konan where she sat in the back passenger seat. Nagato accepted the urn, and clutched it closely in his lap, his arms wrapped around it.

Jiraiya turned back to offer to help Konan out of the car. Konan accepted his help, leaning on him for support, one hand on his arm, the other on her bump.

Hidan followed out, and then put his arm around her waist, to help her with the climb up the slope to the cliffs. Konan patted his hand, and then began the walk up.

“We used to come and hide up here all the time,” said Nagato, as Jiraiya pushed him up the sloped pathway. He turned to face Jiraiya. “Before you fostered us. We used to run out the children’s home and hide for days in the thickets. The people at the care home would go mental when they finally found us.”

“I remember it well,” said Konan. They walked until they reached the highest point of the path, and it was a few steps on the muddy terrain up to the edge that faced over the sea.

“I don’t think I can get up there,” admitted Nagato. “So I’ll say my goodbyes now. Jiraiya?”

Jiraiya glanced down, and patted the urn.

“Bye son,” he simply said. Konan supposed it was because to Jiraiya, Yahiko had been gone for years already. Hidan clung back, knowing that he had never known Yahiko, and feeling somewhat out of place.

But he had come to support her, and for that Konan was grateful.

Nagato held the urn close, cuddling it tightly, and then patted the lid.

“Bye Yahiko,” he murmured quietly, and Konan noticed a single tear trickled down one of his cheek. Nagato brushed it away with his free hand, and then held the urn out to Konan.

Konan accepted it, and climbed the last few steps up to the edge. There was a bench here, and she sat down, holding the ashes in her lap.

They pressed against her bump, and she felt the baby kick.

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be yours,” stated Konan. She ran her hands over the urn. “I’m sorry you never had the chance to be a dad, or have a family, or do any of the things we planned.”

The wind whistled past, the shrubbery at the top of the cliffs singing and rustling in the breeze.

“I’ve missed you all these years,” admitted Konan. “I will always love and remember you, but I need to carry on with my life. I know you’d have wanted me to be happy.”

Konan raised the urn to her lips, and then pressed her lip against the cool surface.

This was it.

Konan stood up, and took several paces to the edge. She tugged open the lid, and then threw the ashes out onto the air. The wind picked them up, so they scattered across the cliffs, over the sea, dancing on the elements.

Konan watched them blow away, finally free, and then felt a sense of calmness settle where her heart was.

Yahiko was at peace, and so was she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the ashes are gone, and they can move on.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this last chapter. Do stay tuned for the epilogue, coming next weekend! <3


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hidan and Konan await the arrival of their baby...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, I can't believe its the end of this fic! I loved writing it so much!
> 
> I hope you all like meeting Hidan and Konan's first child! <3 I myself love babies and having cuddles with them, they're so tinyyy *sobs*
> 
> As a heads up, this chapter is majorly a birth scene, and if anyone finds that uncomfortable, feel free to give it a pass. I will not be offended. :)
> 
> I feel sorry for what I put Kakuzu through in this chapter...poor man must want to die now XDD

It started when they were nestling down for the night. Hidan had slipped down on the left side of his bed, while Konan slept on the right. It was a preference they had mutely decided when Konan first moved in with him. She propped her pregnancy pillow beneath her bump, and reached across the mattress for him. Even as she grew larger, Konan still wanted to cuddle him as they slept together. Hidan found it surprisingly touching, and laid his hand over her bump, feeling the slight kicks as the baby squirmed inside her.

But tonight, Hidan watched Konan grimace, and lay her own hand to her stomach.

“What is it?” he whispered through the dark.

“Just some twinges. Go to sleep, Hidan, and get some rest. It will be a while yet,” instructed Konan, rubbing her belly in a soothing circle.

Hidan did as he was told, reaching across the bed to rub her belly for her as they fell asleep. He watched Konan closer her amber eyes, and only when the calm rise and fall of her breathing began, did he find himself soothed to sleep.

Several hours later Hidan awoke, to find the bed cold and empty. He opened his eyes, and spotted Konan pacing through the room in the darkness, wearing her slippers and with her favoured pink silky dressing gown thrown over her shoulders.

“Konan? Is it happening?” he asked, sitting upright on his elbows and gazing through the darkness.

Konan ceased pacing, and held her hands on her back, so that her belly stuck out proudly. She shook her head. “Not yet. It will still be a while yet, I think.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?” asked Hidan.

“No,” Konan shook her head again. “I hate hospitals. They smell like bleach. I’d rather stay here. Go back to sleep.”

“Is there anything I can do?” offered Hidan.

Konan shook her head for the third time. “Not yet.”

Hidan settled back on the mattress, and watched her make another circle around the room, passing the small white crib that they’d assembled together a few weeks ago. She stopped, leant her hands against the chest of drawers, swaying her hips. Hidan tried to stay awake, but in all honesty, there was very little he could do. Eventually, the warmth of the bed and the promise of further rest before the big moment won out, and Hidan drifted back into a light sleep.

The third time Hidan woke up, Konan was leaning against the wall, low moans escaping her lips. The room was painted the mauve purple tones of dawn, and when he glanced at the clock, realised that sunrise wouldn’t be far off.

“Konan?” he asked.

“It’s all right,” assured Konan. “It will still be a while.”

She moaned again and then paced back through the room towards him, crawling back onto the bed on all fours. She played with her lip piercing thoughtfully as she rested her head against the mattress. To Hidan, it seemed as if she was lost in her own world, as if she was concentrating all her energy inwards to the process taking place within her.

“I think we should go to the hospital,” urged Hidan, sitting upright and rubbing her lower back for her. “You look like it will be any minute now!”

Konan shook her head, before bending further over and groaning. Her stomach strained, and her brows knotted in concentration. A light sheen of sweat had gathered over her forehead, and her hair was dishevelled.

Hidan didn’t know what to do, and so he did the only thing he could think of.

He went and got Kakuzu.

“What?” demanded Kakuzu, opening his door in a pair of pyjamas, a dressing gown and slippers. “This had better be good to wake me up before sunrise.”

Hidan seized him by the front of his dressing gown. “Konan’s about to give birth and I don’t know what to do!”

Kakuzu leant forwards. “Take. Her. To. The. Hospital. You. Complete. _Fuckwit_.”

“No! She won’t go!” protested Hidan, clenching Kakuzu’s dressing gown anxiously. “She says she doesn’t like them.”

“And I suppose you think that I can deliver babies, don’t you?” asked Kakuzu, putting his hands on his hips.

“I didn’t know who else to get!” insisted Hidan.

“Step aside, I’ll talk to her,” Kakuzu marched down the stairs, and into Hidan’s flat, where Konan panted roughly, still kneeling on all fours on the bed. “Konan, how far along are you?”

Hidan watched as Konan stared at Kakuzu through sweaty hair, with pain-glossed eyes.

“It’s happening,” she admitted quietly.

“Come on then, we’ve got to take you for proper care,” said Kakuzu, reaching down to lift her to her feet.

“No!” Konan shook her head, distress written over her features. “No. I can’t give birth in a hospital. That’s the hospital where they told me Yahiko had died and Nagato nearly died in the ICU. I can’t give birth there.”

“You can’t give birth here, Konan,” said Kakuzu firmly. “Anything could happen.”

“Call my dad,” insisted Konan, as she gritted her teeth through a contraction. Tears formed on the corners of her eyes. “Call my dad. His best friend is a doctor. Get her to come here.”

“Are you all right?” asked Hidan.

Konan shook her head. “Hurts.”

“I know it hurts, not much longer,” comforted Hidan. He leant down and reached for both of her hands, holding them between both of his. “You’ve got this.”

“Call her dad, Hidan,” said Kakuzu.

Hidan frantically fumbled through the room, looking for Konan’s phone. He stumbled out into the living room, before finding it plugged in and charging. He rapidly searched through Konan’s contacts, before dialling Jiraiya.

A loud pain-filled cry broke through the air.

Hidan dropped the phone and rushed back to Konan.

“Is it coming? Now?” he asked.

Konan nodded. One of her hands reached down and felt, while Kakuzu averted his eyes.

“I can feel it,” noted Konan.

“Feel what?”

“The head.”

“Where?” Hidan glanced down between her legs and looked. “Now that is one versatile hole!”

“HIDAN!” roared Kakuzu.

Konan ignored them both, and clenched her whole body. Hidan noticed that her face had grown red with effort, as she focused on pushing.

“Get a towel!” demanded Kakuzu.

Hidan ran to the bathroom and grabbed one of the soft baby towels from the airing cupboard that Konan had bought in preparation. He raced back, to discover that Konan had repositioned herself, to sit with her back against the headboard of their bed, her legs apart, and clutching Kakuzu’s hand.

Hidan knelt down, and watched as the swell of the baby’s scalp emerged. Konan released another whimper, and then gritted her teeth, pushing down. Kakuzu wrapped his spare arm around her shoulders, helping her stay upright. Her fingers clenched Kakuzu’s tightly, and Kakuzu winced. Hidan watched Konan’s whole body strain, watched the sweat shine on her forehead from the exhausting effort of pushing, watched her bite her lower lip in pain. Konan slumped back against Kakuzu’s shoulder, as tears escaped down her cheeks. Her chest heaved as she took another breath, and then buckled over, pressing down.

Suddenly, Konan gave a sharp cry, there was a hot slippery rush, and Hidan caught the baby in his scarred arms. Quickly, he tucked the baby tightly inside the towel to keep them warm. There was a shrill wail, as the baby tested out their new lungs, squirming inside the towel where Hidan cupped them in his hands. Konan herself groaned with relief, her eyes flickering closed.

“What is it?” asked Kakuzu, glancing down from where he supported Konan upright. “Is it all right?”

“It’s a boy,” croaked Hidan, glancing between the baby’s legs. “It’s a beautiful baby boy.”

Konan reopened her eyes and held out her hands for the baby. Hidan leant over, and tugged at her dressing gown, laying the baby against her bare skin, so that he nestled below her collarbone. The umbilical cord draped across Konan’s nightdress, but Hidan figured they could worry about it later. The baby squalled and thrashed energetically, little pink toes and fingers waving in the air, and Konan wearily lifted a hand to lay over his tiny body.

“He’s got my hair,” stated Hidan, as he realised that his eyes were watering. He reached across, and tenderly touched the baby’s little hand, as he settled against his mother. His forefinger lightly ran over the baby’s knuckles, whilst his thumb stroked the palm of the hand. “Hello mate.”

Konan sobbed onto the baby, pressing a kiss on his scalp. “Baby boy…you’re so lovely.”

“He’s beautiful,” Hidan wiped his tears away.

Konan cried harder. Hidan wondered what she was thinking of. Maybe she was thinking of her lack of a family growing up. Her mother must have held her close like this as a newborn baby. How could either of them known that Konan would be left adrift in the world merely a few years later, like a wayside flower?

Hidan thought about his parents, and wondered if they held him close when he was born. He’d never even asked, and had never even thought to. They probably let the nurses take him down to the baby unit and leave him on his own in the ward without much of a second thought. They didn’t even know they had a grandson, and probably never would.

This baby would have everything Hidan and Konan never had. Hidan watched as the baby snuggled close to the warmth of Konan’s body, seeking his mother. Konan rubbed her hand back and forth across his little body, feeling the tiny curve of his back, his dangly legs, trying to keep him warm. She kissed his head again, her lips brushing against soft silvery strands of hair, and cuddled him close.

“He loves you so much already,” said Hidan, stroking the baby’s cheek. The baby stopped crying, and opened up his eyes, staring up at Hidan. Hidan peered back at the baby, as father and son exchanged their first glance. “He knows us, look, he knows us!”

The baby burrowed closer to Konan, pushing at her chest. Konan tugged at her nightdress, and then fiddled with her piercing, pulling it out. She handed the jewels to an absolutely mortified Kakuzu, and then laid the baby at her breast, where he immediately latched on, hungrily nursing from her.

Hidan wrapped his arm around Konan’s shoulders, so that he held her whilst she held their baby, and laid a kiss on Konan’s forehead. “Well done babe.”

The three of them gazed down at the baby, studying his pale eyelashes, his silvery wisps of hair, and his features, wondering who he looked like the most. Hidan reached down and touched the baby’s hand again, marvelling at how the tiny fingers could barely wrap around the tip of his thumb.

“You should probably try and call Jiraiya again if you’re not going to a hospital,” said Kakuzu. “The baby needs to be checked to make sure he’s healthy. By a professional.”

“I think we’re all right,” assured Konan, leaning down and kissing the baby’s forehead as he suckled. “We had granddad to look after us.”

Kakuzu’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not granddad.”

“Yes you are,” said Hidan. “You’re old.”

“Fifty is not old!” barked Kakuzu. “Why am I granddad, Hidan?”

“You’re always cleaning up after me whenever I do stupid shit, you tell me what to do whenever I need help, you’ve been more of a dad to me than my own parents, so you’re granddad,” announced Hidan.

“I’ll be uncle,” offered Kakuzu.

“Nagato has already claimed that spot, I’m afraid,” replied Konan.

“Deidara’s the godfather, so that leaves granddad,” explained Hidan. “You.”

Kakuzu groaned. “…fine. I’m granddad.”

Several hours later, the baby’s other granddad knelt beside Konan and the baby, as they huddled under the duvet.

“You didn’t want to go to the hospital?” asked Jiraiya.

Konan shook her head. “Even after all this time, I still just couldn’t face it.”

“I’m glad you’re all right, Konan,” Jiraiya kissed her forehead, before stepping back and allowing Tsunade to gently check the baby over to ensure he was in good health. “He’s a handsome little chap, isn’t he?”

“Thanks to me,” Hidan grinned, gesturing to his face.

“I’ll go and get Nagato soon so that he can meet his new nephew. Is there anything else you need, sweetheart? Anything you want?”

“I’m starving,” admitted Konan. “A pizza?”

Jiraiya chuckled softly. “Of course you can have a pizza.”

Tsunade finished checking the baby over. “He’s all in good health. You both are.”

Hidan watched as Konan accepted the baby back into her arms, and held him close. She reached across to the bedside table, picking up one of the origami phoenix birds she had made while she was pregnant. Konan told Hidan that making an origami phoenix was one of the hardest sculptures that could be created from paper, requiring several thousand folds, and that only the most skilled and experienced origamists could do it.

That included Konan, of course.

She lightly held it above the baby, and his tiny hand reached up and clutched the tail of the bird, pulling it close. Hidan watched the baby boy open his eyes, and gaze at it curiously.

“That’s for you, sweet boy,” he heard Konan whisper. “My little Phoenix.”

The origami phoenix bird was definitely cuter than a rat, Hidan thought to himself. Come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen anymore rats around the flat since then. He glanced at his phone, revealing the date. It was the 6th June, and his son had been born at six ‘o’ clock that very morning. But there was another reason why the 6th June was so significant.

Because it was a year ago that he and Konan had met.

He watched as Konan’s eyelids drooped from the intense labour, as she and Phoenix cuddled close and rested after the long ordeal they had been through together. He wondered what Konan must be thinking. She wasn’t just an origamist anymore. Nor was she a lonely orphan, folding and closing pieces of paper because it was the only recollection to a dimly lit past origin. Nor was she a freshly made widow, stumbling alone through the halls of her house, folding and closing pieces of paper because it was the only thing that still felt normal.

She was a representative of a committee, a friend to many, a sister to Nagato, a daughter to Jiraiya, a partner to Hidan, and now a mother. She had the family that had been taken from her so young, and taken from her yet again before it could even begin when she was a woman.

This was a family they had scrambled together of their own choosing.

And Hidan hoped that she knew that he loved her very much. She had to.

But for now, Hidan wondered where he could get a 'Future Jashinist' baby-grow printed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to end this story on a very sweet, maybe a little overly-fluffy note as I feel like Hidan and Konan were deprived of so much in canon. Their deaths were pointless and ridiculous, and I hate what Kishimoto did to Konan the most…just left her floating in the water and erased her from the narrative?! Fuck no. So in my fic, I felt the need to right some wrongs and give Konan what she deserved – recognition for her work, her career, friends who care about her, a loving partner, a family, etc.
> 
> I don’t usually like “Babies ever after” as a trope because having babies does not automatically make everything better and solve everybody’s problems, and can sometimes cause more/complicate problems. But I felt that one of the major themes in this fic is Konan and Hidan’s lack of a family, and by having children, this ties up this loose end. I will also just add that from the end of this fic, I do think there would be times where Konan would struggle knowing how to parent after not having a stable childhood herself, and Hidan not really knowing what to do either since he didn’t get much parental love in this fic. In fact I can actually imagine Hidan losing his kids in the supermarket. BUT I can confirm that they love their kids very much.
> 
> Thank you all very kindly for following me on this story. It ended up becoming A LOT longer than I originally envisioned as there was so many feelings to explore here and I realised I wanted to do so much world-building of the Akatsuki in a modern au.
> 
> I loved writing hidakona as a pairing, but I couldn’t have done it without the amazing support of the a very lovely hidakona shipper…so a special thanks goes out to RDM for her lovely support, first in encouraging me to write this story, and then for the nice reviews and messages while I was writing. You are golden!
> 
> I would definitely be interested in writing this pairing again, and have plans to participate in the hidakonamonth which I believe is coming up in January. I have some more ideas for some future hidakonas that I’m going to work on soon, including some more canon-based stories. I am planning to focus on finishing off my kakuhida space au and my sasokona 1940s fic, but I am definitely not done with this ship. XD
> 
> If you have any questions or stuff about this story you’d like to chat about, please feel free to leave a comment or message me via Tumblr. I’d love to hear from you!

**Author's Note:**

> you guys know the drill with me...any comments, concerns or questions let me know! i am open to constructive criticism, and love to chat. i don't mind short/long comments, and am grateful for your support <3


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